


Leave No Trace

by Avery_Kedavra



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Little Shit, Background Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders and Morality | Patton Sanders, Background Logic | Logan Sanders, But He Works on it, Dragons, Drowning, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fantasy Racism, Fire, Grief, I didn't tag it as graphic but there's a lot of fantasy fighting and blood, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Loss of Control, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Violence, Moral Dilemmas, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Needs a Hug, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Good Friend, Nightmare Fuel, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Protective Deceit | Janus Sanders, Self-Esteem Issues, Sleep Deprivation, Spiders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Thomas Sanders Storytime Big Bang Challenge 2020, Unconsciousness, Very Minor Character Death, also somewhat minor but please stay safe, as in compulsion magic in several forms but it's not used to do anything much, falling, it's moceit you know they gotta be there, it's never seen or stated explicitly but it's there, more detailed warnings on each chapter!!, never described in detail but heavily implied, some ocs that are unsympathetic, very background i sidelined him i'm sorry, very minor body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 198,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra
Summary: Patton Foster would do anything to help his friends. Take Virgil in after his family died? Yep! Burn a dragon to save Roman? Okay, though he doesn’t feel good about it. Rescue Logan and Remus when, during that same dragon raid, they’re kidnapped? Patton and Virgil are already on their way to Dragon Mountain.But it can only be reached by a dragon. And the only dragon around is the same dragon Patton burned. His name’s Janus. Nobody expected him to agree to help, but he did, and Virgil insists it was to betray them. Maybe so, but Patton hopes Janus’ betrayal will wait until they’re through the Iron Woods. Built to keep humans out and other things in, Patton will need all the help he can get to find Logan and Remus without losing their names or their lives.As they get trapped in trees, drown in a lake, and almost fall to their deaths way too many times, Patton has to decide who he can trust. His best friend, his enemy who might not be all bad--or himself.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 224
Kudos: 139
Collections: Storytime! 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the reason I haven't updated for months! I decided to enter the Big Bang 2020! I've been working on this story for a long time and it's really special to me. It's definitely had its ups and downs and it came out so much longer than I expected, but I'm proud of this little beastie, and I'm so excited to share it with you guys!
> 
> Thanks to @phantomofthesanderssides for their beautiful art! Getting paired with them was a wonderful experience and they were so kind and supportive throughout. Their art is stunning and I highly encourage you to go see it here, and follow them! And thanks to @becca-becky, who despite never being an official beta reader nonetheless let me complain about this fic to them and gave me necessary pokes to get me out of procrastination.
> 
> This was a wonderful experience, and I hope you enjoy the end result half as much as I did! Have a great day!
> 
> (My tumblr is @averykedavra!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: fire, talk of death, blood and injury, unconsciousness, fantasy violence

Patton woke to the sound of dragons.

He hadn't thought he remembered what a raid sounded like. The last one had been years ago. But it all came flooding back when he heard the screaming, the loud thuds, and the hiss of fire. Something roared outside his bedroom window, long and low. Between the curtains he saw the rising sun, wavering and weak through the smoke-clouded sky.

Quickly, Patton tumbled out of bed. He scrambled to his feet and tugged on his boots, not bothering to lace them. Slamming his glasses onto his face, he ran for the door. It burst open before he reached it.

"Pat!" Virgil yelled. He was wearing baggy pajamas, a rat's nest of dark hair, and wide eyes.

"I know!" Patton yelled back, cupping his mouth to be heard over the roars.

Virgil snatched his hand and pulled Patton down the hallway. Patton almost fell down the stairs, but Virgil tugged him upright and they skidded together through the shop downstairs.

"Basement?" Virgil shouted.

Patton shook his head. Dazed memories of lectures on safety and emergency preparation came to mind. "We'd be trapped!"

Virgil nodded and snatched his crossbow from the wall, priming the bolt. Patton gave his kiddo a Look and Virgil gave him a Look right back.

"Moms?" Patton asked as Virgil worked his way through the locks on the door.

"Already outside." Virgil twisted the chain, face set in concentration. Finally, after thwacking the door a few times with his crossbow, the door creaked open.

Beyond their shop was a war zone. The skeletal shadows of dragons crossed the sky, dipping through the clouds. Occasionally one would peel down from above, diving with wings pressed to their sides. Some readied their claws, carrying off objects or buildings. Others opened their mouth and hissed, fire spilling from their jaws and dancing over the town. People ran back and forth, firing arrows or slingshots at the creatures, shoving soot-stained children out of the way. Patton choked back a sob as the miller's shop across the way collapsed. The air rung with shouts, roars, and the sound of breaking wood. Smoke stung Patton's eyes and crept down his throat.

Virgil's face was pale with fright. His knuckles whitened on his crossbow and the angry scar across his left cheekbone twitched. Patton reached over and squeezed his hand, but there was only so much reassurance he could offer.

After all, the dragons were back.

"What now?" Patton asked. The instructions he could recall said to find a safe space, but nothing outside looked safe.

"What?" Virgil yelled.

Patton cupped his hands around his mouth again. "Where do we go?"

Virgil shrugged, fingers tapping manically on his crossbow.

Deciding anything was better than staying still, Patton tugged Virgil down the steps. Above them, the 'Foster's Foods' sign swayed in the wind. He didn't bother to lock the door again. A closed door wouldn't stop a dragon from burning the entire place to smithereens—

Patton shook his head violently. There was no use being all negative about it! He just needed to get Virgil somewhere safe.

However, Virgil apparently had other ideas. When a large dragon swooped over the roofs and sent a blast of fire to a cluster of houses across town, Virgil immediately pulled Patton in that direction. Stumbling over cobblestones, Patton followed, trying to breathe in the thickening smoke. Someone bumped into him, rushing the other direction. Patton hastily tried to apologize, but he couldn't hear his own voice.

"Kiddo?" Patton called as Virgil picked up the pace, heading for the most hard-hit section of town. "Shouldn't we be trying to _avoid_ the nasty dragons burning our town?"

Virgil merely narrowed his eyes further.

Patton's foot hit the edge of a ditch and he fell forward, hands exploding with pain. As he scrambled to his feet, he saw a flash of scales across the road, and the window to the apothecary's shop shattered. The pots in the window, which Patton had often admired on the way home from school, vanished in a whoosh of claws.

"Come on!" Virgil yelled, grabbing Patton's sleeve. "Hurry!"

"Where are we going?" Patton yelled back.

Virgil tugged him along again, and they were running once more down the old cobblestone street, skidding around the haphazard curves and leaping over dirty ditches and holes. They passed people, some running frantically, others hunkered in alleys and doorways, staring up at the sky. Patton saw a young girl tossing metal items out the window, watching them clatter on the street. A flash of wings and some of the objects were carried off, the dragon so close it made Patton's hair ruffle.

Patton tried to look back at home, but they had rounded too many corners. He didn't want to think about what might happen to his mom's favorite jewelry or his mama's cookware. He didn't want to imagine his house going up in flames, burning through the shop with the cracker barrel Remus got his head stuck in and the racks of corn, flour, and baked goods Patton helped his mama make. Fire searing through the old wallpaper, crumbling the floorboards—oh goodness, he'd left his favorite cloth animals in his room, Mr. Widdershins and Pinky! Patton pressed a hand to his mouth to stop the tears. He couldn't think about that now! He had to keep running, keep holding onto Virgil's hand, keep hoping.

They were heading into the smokiest section of town. Patton recognized the fancier woodwork, the designer paint jobs, and the twinkling glass windows of the well-off. This was near where Roman lived, wasn't it? Patton tried to pick out Roman's house, but the air was hazy. The sky teemed with scales and wings. Someone was crumpled on the ground by a blackened shop, unmoving. Patton instinctively turned towards them, but Virgil shook his head and kept running.

"Where are we going?" Patton tried to yell again. But his throat ached, and the only sound that emerged was a hoarse whisper.

Finally Virgil skidded around another corner and the road opened up. They were at the park. A few people hunkered around the edges, and in the center, underneath a large oak tree, sat two familiar people.

Patton almost cried with relief. "How'd you know where they were?" he asked Virgil, voice stronger.

"We agreed, remember?" Virgil dashed between bushes. "Under the Hanging Tree is our rendezvous point."

Patton frowned. He never liked that name. And goodness, had he forgotten the rendezvous point? He knew his memory wasn't always the best, but this was not a good time to be flaky!

"Are you alright?" Logan called, trying to stand up. Remus tugged on his shirt and he sat back down.

Patton gave Logan a smile and thumbs up as him and Virgil joined the others. "Are you?" Virgil asked, looking them over.

"Could be worse," Remus said with a rueful grin. "We're not burnt to a crisp yet."

Patton shuddered. Virgil glared at Remus. "Not helpful."

Logan had somehow managed to put on his usual shirt and tie. Remus was wearing an oversized nightshirt and, Patton noticed with some embarrassment, no pants. Everyone would probably be too busy to look, but still.

Virgil's frown deepened. "Hold on. Where's Roman?"

"According to Remus, they got separated." Logan gave Virgil a bracing smile. "I am sure he will arrive soon."

Virgil didn't look convinced.

"So we'll just stay here?" Patton confirmed. "I feel like, I dunno, we should be helping more." He frowned, glancing around at the burning buildings. "There are people out there who are hurt, and—"

"The best way we can help is to stay put," Logan said. "Putting ourselves in danger assists no one. This is a safe place with no metal and no reason for any dragons to target us."

Remus chuckled to himself. "But we _are_ underan extremely flammable tree in an extremely flammable field of grass, so things might get a little hotter than normal if one of those nearby fires decides this piece of ass is irresistible and jumps on over."

Logan blinked. "Oh. I—admit I hadn't thought of that."

Virgil winced. "Hate to say it, but the trash goblin has a point. This isn't the safest spot."

"Then where would be safe?" Patton asked.

Virgil remained silent.

"There is no fully effective strategy," Logan admitted, regaining his composure. "This is the best plan we have, and we must stick with it. Besides, relocating would only make it harder for Roman to find us."

"Yeah, we're gonna die no matter what." Remus picked a dandelion and started tearing the petals off one by one. "Might as well die under a sweet Hanging Tree."

"Don't call it that," Patton muttered. "It's the Liberty Tree."

"Hanging is so much cooler than liberty, though!" Remus protested. "'Cause with hanging, you just get slowly strangled, and they just leave you _dangling_ there, like an ornament, like imagine a shop window but instead of gowns and decorations it's just a buncha dead people in a row—"

"Remus." Logan placed a hand on his shoulder. Something passed between them, and Remus quieted, returning to tearing his dandelion to shreds.

"We'll be fine," he said eventually, giving Patton a lopsided smile. "With your Fae blood, you're like a living good-luck charm, right? You'll keep us safe."

"Yeah." Patton looked at the twisted shapes of blackened buildings, the rustle of wings and glint of claws as another dragon swooped down. The streets were filled with ashes, and the sky seethed with smoke and scales. "Yeah, I hope so."

He had the feeling he would need more than a distant Fae ancestor to save his town.

Virgil shifted, running his hand down the length of his crossbow. "Roman should be here by now."

Patton tried to smile. "Now, kiddo, let's try to be optimistic about this—"

"The idiot's getting himself killed." Remus stood up, his face uncharacteristically furious. "He got sidetracked with some hero's errand and trying to be a gallant knight and now I've gotta save him before his head gets chopped off and his innards are scooped out with a shovel and—"

"We are not 'saving' anyone," Logan said calmly, pulling Remus back down. "Roman is armed and knowledgeable, although he does not always act like it. He will be fine."

Remus didn't look convinced. Neither did Virgil, who had begun to scuff his toes into the earth. His face was shadowy, occasionally illuminated by bursts of fire. Patton toyed with the edge of his pajama shirt and hummed an old nursery rhyme to distract himself. Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

Nope, okay, that wasn't working.

Someone screamed behind Patton and he whirled, seeing a dragon perch on a nearby building. Unlike the others, it stayed still long enough for Patton to see the curve of its wings, the glint in its eyes, as it sent fireballs to the ground. An overturned cart was set on fire. Several people came streaming outside, most running across the street into the blacksmith's courtyard. Another dragon swooped over them, snatching a few abandoned tools and tossing flames into the corners. The lean-to in the corner was collapsing. A few people scrambled over the stone walls, trying to escape. A smaller dragon coasted to a stop on the entrance's archway, watching the trapped people begin to panic.

Beside Patton, Virgil's breathing was coming faster and shallower. Logan began tapping out a rhythm on Virgil's thigh, and Virgil closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Remus had torn apart every dandelion in the near vicinity and sat surrounded by torn petals, fingers a delicate shade of green.

Patton tried to look away from the destruction around them, but he couldn't. The small dragon was sending little bursts of fire at the people in the courtyard, like it was teasing them. Someone yelled with pain as a flame connected, dropping to the ground. Another person darted forward and dragged them to safety, holding a sword in one hand, head high—

They were wearing bright red pajama pants.

Only one person Patton knew had bright red pajama pants.

Only one person Patton knew would brandish a sword at an honest-to-gosh dragon.

" _Roman!_ "

And Patton, without thinking, pushed himself upright and dashed down the hill to the courtyard.

He heard Logan call his name frantically, then Virgil, even more frantically. Behind him were footsteps, then Remus was running alongside of him, hammer in one hand, curls blowing in the wind. Patton heard scrambling behind him and assumed Virgil and Logan were following. But that didn't matter. He had to get to Roman.

As he approached the courtyard, the smoke got thicker. Coughing, Patton wiped at his eyes and squinted through the haze. Was that Roman over there? No, that was someone else, with a bandage on their leg and long red hair. Where was he? He couldn't have left, where was—

Then smoke cleared slightly, and Patton saw a familiar figure. Roman, cheeks covered with soot and pajamas torn, his knuckles white on his sword. Patton almost cried out with relief. Fortunately, his voice died in his throat.

The dragon was right there.

Its wingbeats pushed aside the smoke, revealing a long green-black body with several yellow scales splashed along the side around its haunches. Claws curled into the crumbled stone wall, wings arched and glittering head bent down to stare at Roman. Its sharp yellow eyes were the size of Patton's head.

One second it was sitting on the wall placidly, eyeing Roman like a cat spotting a mouse. The next it was blasting fire with a loud hiss, swooping down towards him with talons extended. Patton darted forward, weaponless, desperate to help.

Then a bolt lodged itself in the dragon's scales.

It roared loudly, almost rupturing Patton's ears. Although the bolt didn't seem to do much damage, it knocked the dragon off course. Roman rolled under its claws and struggled to his feet again as the dragon kicked off a wall and came to a less-than-graceful stop. The courtyard was too small for it, and every lash of its huge ropy tail sent chunks of stone tumbling to the ground. The dusty mortar mixed with the smoke.

Patton glanced behind him and saw Virgil, crossbow primed, a murderous look on his face. Beside him was Remus, hammer raised, and Logan with a silver knife in his hand.

He smiled. At least he had friends to back him up.

But when he turned around, he remembered how very large the dragon actually was, and how razor-sharp its claws were, and his stomach went cold. It looked across the courtyard and locked eyes with Patton, staring him down. Patton balled his hands into fists and tried to look intimidating, but his chin wavered.

"What are you doing?" Roman yelled, voice hoarse. "Get out!"

"We're saving your skin, idiot!" Virgil was frantically loading another bolt into his crossbow. His fingers shook.

"Get out!" Roman repeated, waving his sword wildly. "You need to—"

The dragon's head swiveled to watch Roman, and with a powerful beat of wings, launched forward at him.

Roman, to his credit, reacted quickly and neatly. He ducked and lifted his sword to reach the dragon's tummy.

But the dragon's feet knocked his sword out of his grasp. It flew to the entrance. Roman sprinted to pick it up, the dragon executed a sharp reverse and followed him, alighting on the archway above him and hissing loudly. Its mouth opened, revealing needle-sharp teeth.

Then it shifted slightly, and the arch groaned in protest. Patton watched in horror as the entire north arch of the courtyard shuddered, shifted, and fell to the ground in a plume of dust.

The dragon quickly took off, hovering above the wall, unharmed.

Roman was not so lucky.

As his fingers closed around his sword, a large chunk of stone came loose. Roman tried to dodge it, but it collided with his shoulder and sent him to the ground. A sickening snap came from his arm, and suddenly the earthen floor of the courtyard was stained with blood. Roman's head lolled forward and his sword was limp in his hand.

"Roman!" Remus screamed. Roman didn't respond. His eyes were closed and his arm wouldn't stop bleeding.

Patton bolted forward again, running past abandoned furnaces and blacksmith tools. The dragon seemed disconcerted by the arch's collapse, but it was landing in the road and carefully making its way over to Roman. Patton ran faster.

"What are you doing?" Virgil yelled behind him.

Patton didn't respond. Another dragon was sweeping over the courtyard now, much larger than the one that hurt Roman, casting the whole place into shadow. His hair ruffled with the force of the dragon's wings. It clipped the nearby chimney as it flew past, sending more stones tumbling. Patton threw himself backwards and covered his face, pebbles cutting into his arms and legs. Coughing from the dust, he climbed to his feet. His hand hit a stone and he hissed in pain—it was burning hot. It must have been an ember from the furnace. A few others lay scattered around him, black in the gray wreckage.

Without thinking, Patton tore off a piece of his tunic and wrapped some embers in it for a makeshift slingshot. Any weapon was better than nothing.

Remus had reached the dragon now, standing over his brother and wielding his hammer with a deadly glare. It gleamed in the light as he struck at the dragon, who darted around him but seemed barely perturbed. Logan was checking Roman's wounds, wiping away some of the blood. Roman hadn't moved. The dragon, sneaking around Remus, snapped at Logan, and he brandished his knife at it. Patton realized it was a kitchen knife, probably from his own kitchen. Oh, Logan.

Virgil was nowhere to be seen. Patton hoped his kiddo had gotten somewhere safe. Knowing Virgil, though? He was probably still here, waiting for an opening.

Patton clutched his rag and embers as he crept forward, watching the dragon. It had gone from avoiding Remus to toying with him, sending blasts of fire that Remus just barely dodged. Remus chucked a few stones at the dragon whenever he got too close to Roman or Logan, but the dragon neatly avoided them.

Then the entire courtyard fell into shadow once again. A dragon—maybe the same one from earlier, maybe a different one, they all looked the same from below with dark scales and gleaming claws and wings larger than a cornfield—was hovering over the scene, carefully staying in position. Watching.

Okay, Patton _really_ didn't like that.

Remus barely gave the dragon a glance. Logan was still tending to Roman, trying to shift the stone off his arm. The other people in the courtyard—oh. There weren't any people here anymore. The last few people were being shepherded out the other arch by Virgil.

Patton couldn't keep himself from smiling. That kiddo really was the greatest, wasn't he? Always looking out for others. Virgil shot him a frightened glance, and Patton gave Virgil a big ol' thumbs up. "Go ahead!" he mouthed. "We'll be fine!"

Virgil didn't leave. He hefted his crossbow and crept around the other side of the courtyard, slipping between cracked stones and old blacksmith workshops.

The dragon hovering above them roared. The sound rumbled in Patton's bones.

And then there was a flash of dark scales, and Remus was standing there with his hammer raised and suddenly he _wasn't,_ and now Logan was staring down the yellow-scaled dragon alone with a kitchen knife, and Virgil was running over, his fingers flying over his crossbow but he couldn't be fast enough, his bolts barely scraped the dragon's scales—

And then the shadow swooped over them again, and Logan yelled and there was a flash of metal as he stabbed desperately at thin air, and he was gone too. Smoke filled his outline as the dragon flew into the sky, two small lumps in its claws. It roared once more, shaking Patton's skin. He tasted wet on his cheeks and realized he was crying.

They were gone. Just like—just like that?

Virgil was firing bolts at the yellow-scaled dragon but they bounced off him, Roman still lay quietly on the ground with his sword clasped in his hand, blood beginning to spill again without Logan to hold it in. The dragon crept closer to him, head low to the ground, claws grinding against the stone. Patton watched in horror as it leaned down and sniffed Roman experimentally, before baring its teeth and beginning to hiss, fire bubbling in its mouth—

Roman.

Roman!

Patton darted forward, swung his makeshift slingshot two or three times around his head, and let it fly.

According to Patton's mom, he had a few drops of Fae blood. A long-ago ancestor had been switched with a changeling at birth, back when humans and magical creatures practically lived next-door. Through the years, the magic had diluted, so Patton didn't have any interesting Fae powers. He couldn't steal anyone's name, for instance, or curdle any milk. In fact, he was glad of that. It sounded kind of mean.

But that Fae blood was still there. His ears were a little pointed, he couldn't tell a lie, and he had a Fae's luck. He couldn't try to force it, but when he let things happen, things usually landed on his side.

Good luck. Supernatural luck. Luck that helped him never break a bone or always win games of cards or be able to balance a coin on its side.

Luck that sent those embers straight at the dragon, colliding with the side of its head.

The dragon screamed, high-pitched and terrible. The embers fell to the ground and Patton saw the damage—he'd burned through the outer layer of scales and around the eye. Blood leaked from cuts on the exposed skin. The scales seemed to curl in the heat. Roman forgotten, the dragon staggered back, whirling to stare at Patton.

It looked…Patton shuddered. That injury looked pretty painful. Patton's stomach churned. He'd _hurt_ that dragon. It was trying to hurt his friends, and _had_ hurt one of them, and definitely deserved it. But—he didn't want to hurt _anything_. He didn't like hurting things. Even if they were jerks.

And the dragon looked hurt. Really, really hurt. The stone dust and smoke was irritating the newly exposed skin. Blood dripped slowly down its face, hissing when it hit the ground. The dragon looked red and angry and raw and pained.

Patton had _done_ that.

His face felt numb. Everything around him swayed. Dimly he saw the dragon approach him, but he couldn't move. His legs were made of lead. Virgil was yelling something. His name, maybe? That would make sense, wouldn't it? Patton didn't know. Logan and Remus weren't yelling anything. Right. Because they were gone.

Gone, gone, G-O-N-E gonegonegone.

Patton stumbled backwards, his back colliding with the wall. The dragons stared him down. He was close enough to see the smaller scales around its neck, the slight ridge along its back, and the bits of orange in its yellow eyes.

He was going to die today, he was going to die, he was going to—

Then the dragon paused, whined softly and lowly, and crumpled to the ground.

Patton waited with bated breath, half-expecting it to jump up and burn his face off. But it didn't move. Its wings, delicate and fine now that Patton saw them close up, were spread on the ground. Its eyes were closed. That ugly burn still covered half of its face.

The dragon was asleep. Unconscious.

He was safe.

Patton's knees buckled and he started sobbing, laughing, he didn't know which but he was alive and that was enough—he could feel the stone biting into his palm as he fell to the ground and the rough edge of his tunic and the tears slipping down his face and he was _alive_ and Roman was alive and Virgil—

Virgil. Oh, Virgil was here. When did he get here?

"Patton," Virgil was saying, hauling him up. "Come on. We have to go."

"I—" Patton shook his head. "I hurt it, Virgil."

"Yeah, I know. It was a good shot." Virgil tugged at his sleeve. "You need to stand."

"I hurt it," Patton repeated.

Virgil's expression softened. "You did good, Pat. That was tough, but you did good."

"I—" Patton shook himself and scrubbed the tears off his cheeks. "Roman?"

"Right!" Virgil dashed over to Roman, and Patton followed. Roman's eyes were still closed, his shoulder soaked with blood. Virgil hovered over Roman nervously, hands skating above the wound.

"We—we should get him somewhere safe," Virgil finally said. "We probably shouldn't be moving him, but—we can't stay out in the open."

"Okay." Patton slipped an arm under Roman's shoulders and lifted him up. Virgil took his other arm and grabbed his sword as well. Together, they maneuvered Roman upright and stumbled across the courtyard. Roman's head lolled on Patton's shoulder. A small cut lined his cheekbone and his hair was coated with dust and soot.

Patton stumbled over a patch of loose earth, but he pulled himself upright. He needed to keep going. They needed to get to a safe place. Roman needed him. Virgil needed him. He had to keep walking.

Outside of the courtyard was a half-collapsed shop and a few vegetable gardens. Virgil carefully lay Roman on the grass. Roman shifted a little and mumbled something in his sleep, and Patton squealed. "He's okay!"

"I wouldn't say that," Virgil said, looking worriedly at his shoulder. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"What do we do?"

"Um…we have to stop the bleeding, right?" Virgil tapped at his leg. "Focus, focus! Ugh, I wish Logan were here. We have to stop the bleeding. Put—put pressure on it. Right. Right. Pressure."

"Pressure," Patton repeated.

"Yeah. I think." Virgil ran his hands through his hair, leaving it even more tousled. "Do you have any bandages?"

"No. You woke me up, kiddo. I don't keep bandages in my pjs." Patton glanced around. "We're nowhere near any medical stuff."

"At least there are no dragons around," Virgil muttered. "Nice change of pace, to have the universe grant us _some_ mercy."

Patton frowned. Now that Virgil mentioned it, he hadn't heard any dragons in the past few minutes. He tried to peer at the sky, but the low-hanging smoke made it impossible to see. Still, he noticed a lack of scaled shadows and new bursts of fire. Old flames still funneled into the sky, but he couldn't spot a single dragon.

"Gosh darn it," he said, a smile cracking on his face. "Did they leave?"

Virgil glanced up from where he was wiping off Roman's shoulder. "Did who leave?"

"The dragons." Patton scanned the roads and park. They were filled with small fires, overturned and broken houses, and scared people. But there were no dragons. "I think they're gone!"

"No way." Virgil frowned. "Dragons don't just _leave._ "

"Well, maybe these ones did." Patton folded his arms. "How much do you know about dragons anyway?"

"Fine," Virgil snapped. "Maybe they left. But in my _experience_ , they usually don't leave until the entire place is burned down, everyone is killed, and they've stolen every metal thing around. Do you think these dragons are more merciful? Or did they just remember they're late for their trip to the _farmer's market?"_

Patton flinched. "I—I'm really sorry, kiddo. I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine." Virgil bit his lip. "Sorry. Maybe your dragons _are_ different. I dunno."

"Well." Patton attempted a smile. "We can't know for sure. All we can do is help Ro."

"Yeah." Virgil stared down at Roman. "Except we can't really do that either. I don't know anything about healing giant wounds. If Logan were here—"

Virgil immediately stopped himself, his mouth slamming shut. Patton's chest seized painfully, but he ignored it.

"We need to get him to someone who knows what they're doing," Virgil said. "As soon as possible."

Patton immediately jumped to his feet. "I'll go find someone!"

"What—no!" Virgil hissed at Patton, grabbing his arm. "You are _not_ running out there again! I'll go!"

Patton shook his head. "Kiddo, I'm not letting you—"

"I have a weapon and you don't, it just makes sense—"

"Kiddo." Patton smiled firmly. "I'm doing this."

"No, no you're not, _where are you going_ —"

Patton gave Virgil a quick thumbs up and darted past the gardens to the road. Virgil yelled after him, but Patton knew he wouldn't leave Roman alone.

The entire town was covered with smoke and soot. The stones beneath Patton's feet were softer than usual, because they were choked with black char. Burned wood, old stones, and spilled food covered the streets. The Liberty Tree was on fire, trunk blackening and leaves crumbling to ash.

Patton ran, listening hard but hearing no dragons. People were starting to emerge, looking around warily, faces slack and shell-shocked. A house collapsed as Patton passed, flames leaping hungrily in the air. Someone called out to him, but he only gave them a wave and ignored it.

He needed to get to the infirmary. Where was it? He knew it was east of the park, but had he gone east? Was this the road he needed to take? He was never good with directions and everything looked different when it was burned and crumbling. Was that the old post office? The red paint was blistered and peeling. It could have been the library or the town hall or one of the many houses ransacked from the inside out.

Finally, Patton rounded a corner and saw the infirmary. Well, what used to be the infirmary. The old stone walls, which had stood for hundreds of years, had collapsed. In front of it, makeshift stretchers covered the street, a few nurses and doctors already bustling around. There were already too many patients, and more were already streaming in. Patton spotted someone burned from the waist up, red tissue covering their chest and neck. Someone was crying loudly. Another person—was that Mr. Davis from the strawberry farm? His back was raked by claws and blood bubbled along the neat wounds.

Patton raced towards a nearby nurse. She didn't turn around right away. Patton waited for her to turn around, but when he realized she didn't know he was there, he steeled up his courage and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yes?" she asked, looking over her shoulder. A large bruise tattooed her face in shades of bluish-purplish-brown.

"My—my friend!" Patton coughed but continued. "He's hurt! Can you help him?"

"Is he here?"

"No, he's by the blacksmith courtyard!"

The nurse frowned. "Kid, that's too far away. I can't leave these people."

"But he's hurt!" Patton begged.

"You'll have to bring him here, then." Her face softened. "I'm sorry, truly. But there are many people hurt. Your friend isn't my top priority."

Patton wished he had the bravery to fight her on that. He wasn't just anyone—he was Roman! But he understood, and he didn't want to be a bother. He didn't know how he was supposed to carry Roman a third of the way across town, but he could try!

His disappointment must have shown on his face, though, because the nurse sighed and gestured to the mass of cloth near the hospital door. "Take a stretcher. That'll help."

"Thank you!" Patton almost hugged her, but she had a lot of blood on her apron and also looked really busy. He settled for clapping his hands and giving her a big smile before running over to the stretchers. Grabbing at a pile of cloth on top, he accidentally pulled off four or five stretchers instead of just one. Carefully, he stuck the other four on top, tucked the cloth stretcher under his arm, and ran.

It was harder running back. His sides ached, his lungs burned, his feet stung, and he was running in the opposite direction from everyone else on the street. He bumped into someone, then someone else, and he had no breath to apologize but he tried to anyway. The stretcher slipped from under his arms and he held it tighter, feeling like every nerve and muscle in his body was burning like the buildings around him. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't talk, he just needed to—he needed to get to Roman—

Virgil was kneeled by Roman, dabbing at his shoulder. He jumped to his feet when he saw Patton coming. Patton tried to hand Virgil the stretcher but it fell out of his hands, and he almost fell with it. He sunk to his knees and took deep gulping breaths. His head spun. Virgil was unwrapping the stretcher and starting to shift Roman onto it, but Patton couldn't hear a word Virgil said over the pounding of blood in his ears.

"Pat." Virgil's voice broke through. "Pat. I'm sorry, but I can't carry this alone."

Patton wanted to sob. He wanted to curl into a ball on the grass and fall asleep until everything stopped hurting. He wanted to go home and have his moms hug him until he felt better.

But Roman was lying on the stretcher, eyes still closed, shoulder bearing a makeshift bandage, the blood on his pajamas bright red against the white stretcher.

Patton pushed himself to his feet, nodded, and took one side of the stretcher.

They walked back to the infirmary. Virgil took the lead, and Patton tried his best to keep up. Every step sent knives stabbing through his feet. His lungs crackled with each breath.

"You doing okay?" Virgil asked.

"No," Patton admitted, but he couldn't rest right now. Roman needed him.

"We could ask for help." Virgil glanced around. "Hey! Could someone—"

"Virgil, it's fine!" Patton smiled wider and tried to walk faster. "I-I've got this. We don't need to—worry anyone."

Virgil gave him a Look that Patton couldn't read, but he didn't ask for help again.

When they finally stumbled into the makeshift infirmary, placing Roman on the ground, nobody even looked their direction.

"Excuse me?" Patton asked. "Could—could someone please—"

Virgil cupped his hands around his mouth. " _HEY!"_

Half the people turned to stare at them. Patton flushed and gave them a little wave. Virgil just scowled.

"Someone help this idiot!" Virgil continued, pointing at Roman. "I don't know first aid and he's bleeding a lot!"

Nobody stepped forward.

"Hey! You!" Virgil locked eyes with a doctor washing his clothes. "You doing anything right now?"

"I—well, no—"

"Great. Get over here." Virgil folded his arms and glared. "Now."

The doctor rushed over to Roman, staying clear of Virgil and eyeing him warily. Patton stepped back, giving him an apologetic smile and letting him tend to Roman.

The fight leaked out of Virgil's eyes. He sighed worriedly, giving Roman a nervous glance and leaning against a nearby lamppost like it was the only thing holding him up.

"Are you alright, kiddo?" Patton asked.

"I'm just gonna—" Virgil waved a hand and closed his eyes. "Hang here. Tell me if Roman—if anything happens."

"Okay," Patton said, giving Virgil a quick hug. He thought about sitting next to Virgil, but although he ached all over, he still buzzed with energy. He couldn't imagine resting when there were people to help! Maybe he could check on the shop, or try to find his moms, or maybe find Remus and Logan…but he didn't really want to do any of those things. Those sounded really emotional and icky and could be very disheartening, so he decided to save them for later.

For now, he asked a nearby doctor what he could do. She sent him to wash out bandages at a nearby well. It was monotonous work, and Patton's head still swam, but he was helping. That's all he could ask for. And the cool water felt wonderful on his skin.

He cleaned a huge pile of bandages. He tried to ignore the yells of pain, the crying, and the occasional sounds of another building collapsing in the distance. It was hard. He stared at the bandages and tried to keep his hands from shaking.

"Patton!"

Virgil was standing up again, leaning over Roman. Patton dropped his bandage on the ground and raced over, heart in his throat. "What happened?" Patton asked frantically.

"Don't worry," Virgil said with a half-smile. "He's stable. They've found some space in the library and they'll move him into a room there."

Patton smiled gladly, looking down at Roman. The blood had been cleaned from his shoulder and stiff white bandages covered his arm. "Did he wake up?"

"No." Virgil looked at Roman with a fond exasperation. "But he talks in his sleep. Kept ranting about mashed potatoes. I barely understand him when he's awake, but now…"

As if on cue, Roman mumbled "…chickens aren't green, don't be like that…"

Patton giggled. Virgil managed a snicker as well.

Two people—Patton wanted to say doctors, but they weren't wearing any medical equipment and he recognized one as a baker from down the road—picked up Roman's stretcher and began to carry him away. "Don't follow," one called to Patton and Virgil. "It'll be a mess for hours in the library—no visitors until we have everyone organized and accounted for. We'll call you back when you can see him."

"Okay!" Patton called. "Thank you so much!"

They didn't respond. Virgil stared after Roman and, despite the instructions, looked about to follow them anyway.

"Virgil," Patton said softly. "We should…we should go home."

Virgil glanced at him. "I don't know, Pat. What if…?"

Patton bit his lip and tried for a smile. "Well, we don't have to right away, then. Do you want to help me wrap bandages?"

"No thanks." Virgil ran his hands over his clothes. "Honestly, I just want to go shoot something. Maybe I'll take my crossbow and blow off some steam—the apple tree by the Keplingers' house is a good target—"

Then he froze. "Oh, fu—" Virgil paused. "Fudge. Fudgy muffins."

"What is it?" Patton asked.

"My crossbow. I left it…near Roman."

"Oh." Patton glanced around. "Do you want me to get it? I can be there and back in fifteen minutes if I run—"

"Pat, no, it's fine." Virgil gave him a small smile. "I appreciate it, though. I'll go and get it myself. There's nothing else for me to do."

"If you're sure…" Patton said hesitantly.

"I am." Virgil nodded confidently, turning and walking down the street.

He made it about six feet before his strides petered out and he stood alone on the cobblestones. Making a sad clucking noise, Patton walked up to Virgil and carefully touched his shoulder. "You alright there, kiddo?"

"Yeah," Virgil said unconvincingly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I—" Virgil swallowed and waved a hand at the town, still coated in ash and smoke. "It's too…I don't like it. At all."

"Does it remind you?" Patton asked, making sure he didn't sound too interrogative or forceful. "Of…your old town?"

"Yes and no." Virgil stared at the ruins of a nearby shop, face unreadable. "It's not as bad as that raid. Still bad, though."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"I…" Virgil looked torn, and Patton squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem, kiddo!" Patton beamed. No matter that he was surrounded by the rubble of his hometown. No matter that his lungs burned every time he breathed and his legs wobbled like jelly. No matter that the stitch in his side hadn't gone away and he was pretty sure he was getting a blister. If he allowed those little things to stop him, he'd never get anything done! Patton took a deep breath and tried to ignore the pain as he walked with Virgil down the street.

"I'm worried," Virgil finally said. "About Roman."

"Of course you are, kiddo!" Patton agreed. "He got hurt. It's natural to be concerned. But I'm sure he'll be fine."

"How can you be sure?"

"I don't know!" Patton shrugged and smiled. "But I am."

He wasn't sure, not really. That shoulder wound looked bad, and even if Roman did pull through easily, he might not be able to use that arm for a while. And Roman's parents wouldn't have him working on the farm anymore, so they'd probably have even more trouble getting back on their feet after the raid—especially since Remus was…well, Remus wasn't definitely missing. Maybe him and Logan had gotten dropped off somewhere and Patton just hadn't seen them! He scanned the people nearby, but he saw neither Logan's square glasses or Remus' dazed grin. He only saw dirt and smoke and fire and blood and oh my goodness, was that person's bone sticking through their skin—

Patton quickly looked away, staring at his feet as he kept walking. Nothing to see there. If he kept walking, it wouldn't hurt him. If he kept walking, it didn't have to exist. The cobblestone was slightly sooty but otherwise unchanged. He could almost pretend it was a regular sunny morning, and him and Virgil had just gotten up and were on an early-morning visit to a friend's house or maybe a bread run. They'd eat breakfast with his moms, then work on the farm for a while, tending to the animals and racing through the cornfields, coming inside for milk and cookies, wading in the swimming hole—

Another building collapsed nearby with a massive crumpling thud. Someone screamed. Patton flinched slightly, and the smile on his face wavered.

Well. Pretending was getting awfully hard at this point.

"Over there," Virgil said, looking across the street. Sure enough, they were near the Liberty Tree and the crumbled blacksmith's courtyard. Patton shuddered at the sight—most of the smoke had cleared, revealing the gaps in the wall like broken teeth.

Virgil walked forward slowly, hands clenched into fists. Patton followed, holding Virgil's hand for reassurance. The crossbow lay on the grass, and Virgil quickly swooped it up, using the rawhide strap to swing it over his shoulder. He seemed to relax with it nearby, rubbing the wood and almost smiling.

Patton couldn't help but glance into the ruined courtyard. A few blacksmith tools lay forgotten on the ground, some snapped in half. The ruined chimney with still-glowing embers covered almost an entire corner. The stones were singed from dragon fire. He even thought he spotted some blood on the ground, though it might have been his imagination.

Then Patton saw a dark figure on the ground. Someone was lying in the middle of the courtyard, still and silent.

"Virgil?" Patton whispered. "Do you see that?"

"Huh?" Virgil looked around. "Wait—is that—"

"Someone's still there." Patton ran forward, leaping over several stones and ignoring the way his lungs ached. "They're hurt, Virgil, we need to help!"

Virgil followed, one hand on his crossbow. "I dunno, Pat…I don't remember anyone there before…"

Patton had already reached them. They were wearing a dirty tunic and pants that were a little too small. Tilted slightly away from Patton, they lay sprawled in the dirt, eyes closed and not stirring when Patton approached.

"Hello?" Patton asked. Carefully, he reached down and shook their shoulder. "Hey, are you alright—"

The person made a low groaning noise. He could see half their face. They had a sharp nose and thin lips, and their long brown hair was dusty from lying on the ground around their head.

"Are you okay?" Patton glanced at Virgil, who was hanging back, looking wary. "Virgil, they're hurt, we need to get them—"

Then their eyes flew open—yellow eyes, they had yellow eyes—and they snatched Patton's wrist, tossing him to the side.

They were surprisingly strong. Patton fell to the earth with an "oof," his already sore muscles whining with agony. He drew himself up to his knees.

"Hey!" Virgil said, striding forward. The person glared at him, crawling back on their hands and knees until they hit the wall. Grabbing a stone with their hand, they levered themselves to their feet. Even from six feet away, Patton could hear their hiss of pain.

"Stop!" Patton pleaded, struggling to his feet as well. "You'll hurt yourself!"

The person looked up, and Patton's heart stopped.

They had a sharp nose, thin lips, long brown hair…and a fresh burn covering one side of their face.

Yellow eyes. They had yellow eyes.

They'd been lying right where the dragon fell…

Oh, no. No, no, no.

"No," Patton whispered.

The person—dragon? Dragon-person?—glared at him. Patton could see them shaking as they tried vainly to stay upright. Virgil stepped forward, eyes narrowed, pulling his crossbow off his shoulder.

There was no need for that, Patton wanted to say, but his mouth was dry. The world was spinning. He thought he might throw up.

The person looked about Patton's age. They were a teenager. A teenager. A dragon, a dragon who had been about to kill Roman.

A teenager.

A teenager that Patton burned across the face.

Patton was definitely going to throw up.

The person seemed to sense his hesitation. They stepped, not forward but backward, trying to get away, glancing warily at Virgil with his crossbow, pushing off the wall to gain momentum—

And they collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Patton very nearly did the same. His legs were about to give out. He wanted to curl into a little ball on the ground and scream and cry and get rid of the monstrous sick _thing_ squirming around his heart. Throw up, maybe, and get rid of the bile in his stomach. His arms hurt, his legs hurt, his chest hurt, his eyes hurt, his heart hurt because he _hurt_ something. Someone. The dragon was a someone. A someone collapsed on the ground, burned and wounded.

Patton had one rule in life—to always help and never, ever hurt.

He just broke that rule, didn't he?

"Patton?" Virgil asked, voice soft. "Are you…okay?"

"No," Patton admitted, unable to stop himself.

He gritted his teeth. Maybe he couldn't help everyone. Maybe he did hurt this dragon. But that meant he just had to try harder to be helpful and make up for his mistake. He just had to help a bunch more people, and then it would balance out, right?

He was tired. So tired. But he couldn't rest now.

"Come on," Patton said, stumbling out of the courtyard.

"Where are we…" Virgil glanced backward. "Pat, we can't just leave them there! Who knows what they'd get up to!"

"They're unconscious, Virgil," Patton chided. "And anyway, we'll be back soon."

"What are we getting?"

"A stretcher."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. The best meet-cutes involve one of the love interests severely maiming the other, I always say


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: talk of death, nightmares, and here comes the fantasy racism boys

There was a hole in the roof.

It was about six hands wide and jagged around the edges. Fallen wood covered the carpet. Patton's bed was covered in dust and ash. It had started to rain—a good thing for the town, the rain would help put out any leftover fires—but a bad thing for Patton's room. He'd already shoved everything important away from the hole. The carpet, which was handmade and lodged under the bed, refused to budge. Patton covered the area under the hole with an old quilt. It barely helped. The rain was coming down hard.

A huff at the door alerted Patton to Virgil's presence. He was holding the biggest pot they owned, legs stumbling under the weight. Immediately, Patton ran to help hold it up.

"Don't," Virgil panted, "I can handle it."

Patton frowned at him and took one side anyway. Together, they maneuvered it under the hole. It fell to the ground with a thud. Virgil bent over, wheezing.

"You didn't have to do that," Patton said worriedly. "Are you tired? Sit down."

"I'm alright, Pat." Still, Virgil gladly sunk to the ground and stuck out his legs. "Is it working?"

Patton examined the large pewter pot. It had a large hole in the side but the bottom was sturdy. The rain made little pings on the edge. Patton smiled. "Seems to be."

"Good." Virgil chuckled. "Now we just have to fix the actual hole."

Patton tilted his head, closed one eye, and stuck out his tongue. It still looked like a very big hole in his bedroom ceiling.

"No big deal," Patton said to himself. "We'll grab the ladder and put a tarp over it. Once it stops raining, that'll work until we can get a real patch job."

Virgil shifted, staring at his knees. "Pat?"

"Yeah?"

"Um…I took a look around. Took inventory."

"Oh." Patton pulled up a stool and sat on it, sticking a hand under the rain. It was cold and refreshing on his skin. "And?"

"Well…" Virgil looked sheepish. "This pot, a few spoons, and Mama's necklace under her bed."

"Were taken?" Patton asked. But he knew better. He'd seen the door when they came back, busted open. He'd seen the singed stairs and broken windows.

"Were left."

"Oh," Patton said again. "So, no ladder?"

"It was metal. Factory-made."

"Right."

"Yeah." Virgil counted off on his fingers. "And no cookware, no money, no tools…"

Patton mentally searched through every metal thing he owned. "Wait—did they take my animals?"

Patton had a little box of toy animals that some of the silversmiths made him as a kid. He still played with them now, even though he was almost twenty. Maybe it was kind of silly. He liked them, though.

"I don't know," Virgil said slowly. "Where were they?"

Patton thought back. The last time he'd played with them was last night. Suzie the Sheep was finally making friends with Leo the Lion. "I left them downstairs on the table…"

"Then they're gone." Virgil reached over and squeezed Patton's hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Patton said, keeping his voice steady. "It's just stuff, right? Just stuff."

"I guess," Virgil said. "Still sucks, though."

Patton nodded, staring at the old pot with rain steadily filling the bottom. His hands were no longer cool and refreshed but wet, clammy, and cold. He pulled them out from under the hole and wiped them on his tunic. Ash smudged over his fingers.

"You should change clothes," Patton said, glancing at Virgil, who had a similar dirty shirt. "Yours is all black."

"Yeah," Virgil said. He didn't move. Patton didn't, either. The pot was almost a quarter filled with water. Another few inches and it would start leaking through the hole in the side.

Patton swallowed and worked up the nerve to ask the question lurking in the back of his mind. He knew the answer, he knew Virgil would have told him if anything happened, but he still needed to confirm it.

"Are they back yet?"

Virgil pressed his lips together. "No."

Patton nodded, staring into the pot and squeezing his hands together.

"They'll be here soon," Virgil said bracingly. He sounded out-of-his-depth, trying to comfort Patton. He shouldn't be comforting Patton! Patton should be comforting him! They were Virgil's moms too! Well, not by blood, but Virgil had been living with them for five years and that was pretty much family. Patton straightened his posture and tried to smile.

"They'll be here," he agreed. "They're probably just…I dunno, lost? They got lost. Or they stayed behind to help, or something like that! They'll be back before we know it."

"Right." Virgil nodded. "Right."

Patton gave him an encouraging smile. "Hey, we can't know either way, so we should try to look on the bright side!"

"You're just setting yourself up for failure, aren't you?" Virgil raised an eyebrow, but the twitch of his mouth told Patton he was just teasing.

"I don't see it that way!" Patton crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip. "You're beating yourself up about something that might not even happen."

"But it's logical." Virgil's smile grew wider. "If something bad happens, I'll be ready. And if something good happens, it'll be a cool surprise."

"Hmph." Patton leaned forward and booped Virgil on the nose. "Well, you do you, kiddo. I'll stick to being op-ti-mi-stic." With each syllable, he booped Virgil again. Virgil was giggling, covering his face and weakly swatting at Patton's hand. Patton giggled too.

"F-fine," Virgil stammered, pushing Patton away. "You win. Get away from me."

Patton waggled his fingers evilly.

Virgil chuckled again, but his smile soon faded. "Pat?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I…" Virgil curled his hand into a fist. "I'm worried about Roman. And Logan. And Remus. And Mom, and Mama, and…"

"I know," Patton said. "That makes sense. You're a very caring person and when you don't know something, you worry."

Virgil groaned. "I hate it. I wanna turn it off."

"Well, I'll tell you this." Patton glanced at the hole in the ceiling. The rain wasn't stopping, and the pot was almost halfway full, but it would stop soon, he was sure. "Roman will be fine. He's at the library with people who know what to do. They'll fix his shoulder and we'll visit him as soon as they let us, right?"

Virgil nodded slowly.

"Right," Patton continued. "And Logan and Remus? They probably got dropped off somewhere else. Maybe they're at the library right now, or maybe at their houses. We'll probably hear from them tomorrow."

Virgil didn't look fully convinced, but he nodded again.

"Mom and Mama…" Patton fought through the lump in his throat. "Like I said. They're smart and they have each other. They'll be fine."

"Yeah."

"Everything will be fine," Patton said firmly. "We'll rebuild. Everyone will heal. We'll help each other out like neighbors until everyone's back on their feet. We'll do some more trading with the cities—they've got a relief program for people who got raided, right? The town council will help get us food. We'll all be fine soon. Not right now, maybe, but soon."

"Okay," Virgil said slowly. "You're sure?"

Patton thought of Roman falling under the stones, shoulder bleeding bright red. Remus swept into the air. Logan standing alone with his knife, disappearing in an instant. The last time he'd seen his moms—the night before, when he tiptoed up the stairs with a quick goodnight. Why didn't he say more? Why didn't he hug them, let them kiss his head like they did when he was little? He should have spent more time with them, been more helpful, listened to Roman more and played games with Remus more and read all the books Logan told him to read instead of skimming them.

He thought of a young dragon splayed on the ground, burns crawling across his cheek.

"I'm sure," Patton tried to say. The words choked around his mouth. Despite his efforts, he couldn't force the simple phrase, a two-word lie, through his lips.

Sometimes he really hated having Fae blood.

"I'm not sure," Patton admitted, and the pressure on his windpipe immediately eased. "But, y'know, who's ever sure of anything? I'm still not sure that cows can't fly, and Logan's told me they can't a million times."

A perfect save. Virgil chuckled. "If I see one fly, I'll let you know, Pat."

"Thanks, kiddo. You're a good friend." Patton ruffled Virgil's hair, rubbing his fingers over the shaved part by Virgil's ear. Virgil always kept that part shorn. He said it helped him remember.

Patton was about to suggest they go through the pantry and see how many cookies they could eat when there was a small splash by his feet. He looked over and saw the pot had filled up to the hole. As fast as rain could fill the pot, water leaked out onto the floor.

"Oh, dear." Patton jumped to his feet. His ankles stung, and he ignored them. "We need to stop the leak!"

Virgil pushed himself upright and reached for a nearby blanket. Patton grabbed it and shoved it into the hole. The pot tilted slightly, more water sloshing around his feet and covering his hands. Patton huffed and tried to pull the blanket out to fill the entire hole. It kept slipping along the edges.

"We need rope or something," Virgil said. "I'll go and get—"

Patton shook his head. Virgil was _not_ going to run and get some rope! Not when he was so tired! Quickly, Patton grabbed a vase on his dresser, dumped out the flowers, and placed it under the hole. The water sloughed off into the vase.

"There!" Patton smiled. "All fixed."

Virgil didn't smile. "Yeah, but won't it fill up and run over?"

"Yes, so I'll just dump it out!" Patton walked over to the window and opened it, smelling the smoke on the breeze. "At least it's not getting all over my carpet."

Virgil shifted, staring at his lap. "I really am sorry about your room, Pat."

"You didn't make the hole," Patton reminded him cheerfully. "And I've always wanted a skylight, and we can boil all this water and use it for cooking!"

"I guess," Virgil said. "But I'm still gonna get some rope and see if we can actually patch that hole—"

"No, you're not," Patton said. "I'm getting the rope. You've had a long day and you need to rest."

"You've had the same exact day—"

Before Patton could explain to Virgil how exactly it was different, because it _was_ , there was a noise downstairs. Patton glanced at Virgil, eyes wide.

"Burglar?" Virgil whispered.

Patton's excitement dampened. "I don't think so, maybe—"

"Patton?" a familiar voice called. "Virgil? Are you there?"

Virgil's face split into a wide grin, mirroring Patton's own. Hole in the pot forgotten, they both dashed through the door and down the hall, stumbling over the steps and accidentally shoving each other out of the way. Patton barreled into the shop and practically slammed into his mom.

"There you are," she said, hugging him tightly. "Oh my goodness, Patton, sweetheart, I'm so sorry—they wouldn't let Madeleine leave the library until they were sure she was alright."

"Is she alright?" Virgil asked. He was standing awkwardly at the foot of the steps. "That doesn't look good."

Reluctantly, Patton pushed himself out of his mom's arms to check on his mama. She was leaning against the counter, a sling on her arm. Patton gasped with worry.

"I'm fine," she said, giving Patton a reassuring smile. "It's just sprained."

Patton frowned. "You're sure?"

"Of course!" She held out her non-injured arm. "And I've still got one good arm, so get in here."

Smiling, Patton ran over and hugged her tightly. His mama cupped her hand behind his head and ran her thumb over his cheek.

"You stole him," his mom complained good-naturedly.

"Don't be so petty, Runa. There's more than enough room for you."

And Patton felt another set of arms wrap around him. It was warm and soft, his aching bones and muscles relaxing. He smiled. Perfect.

Well, almost perfect. Virgil was still hanging back, looking hesitant. Patton sighed. It may have been almost five years of living together, but Virgil still seemed to be worried that he wasn't part of the family.

"Virgil?" Patton asked, his voice muffled in his mama's shirt. "Come on!"

"I—" Virgil shifted. "I mean, if—"

His mama rolled her eyes. "You're our kid too, or good enough as, and I've had a very long day and want all my special people to hug me. Get your butt over here or you're grounded for a week."

Virgil snickered, and slowly walked over and joined the hug. Patton extricated one arm and wrapped it around Virgil's shoulders. Virgil settled into it, giving Patton a grateful smile.

"I'm so sorry, boys." Patton's mom was the first to speak. "We left you alone in the house—that was inexcusable. How were things for you? Did either of you get hurt?"

Virgil and Patton exchanged a worried glance. Oh. Right. They hadn't actually gotten permission to go outside.

"Well," Patton said with a forced smile, "I would like to start by saying that we thought it was the best idea at the time—"

Mama raised an eyebrow, looking Patton over. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Virgil blurted out. "Nothing at all."

"Patton, what did you do?"

Patton flushed. Of course they'd ask him—curse his Fae blood and inability to lie. "Um. We went outside."

"And why on earth would you do that?"

"It was safer!" Patton protested. "A dragon made a hole in the roof, Mama! If we'd been there, we might have been in trouble! At least outside we couldn't get cornered!"

"He has a point," Mom admitted.

"Hmph." Mama grabbed his chin and checked him all over before doing the same to Virgil. "And neither of you got hurt?"

"No," Virgil promised.

"Well, I suppose it's not the worst thing that could have happened, if you kept your heads low."

Patton clamped his mouth shut and tried very hard not to correct her. Lies of omission were easier than complete out-loud ones, but the words still wriggled up his throat and tried to lunge free.

"I know that look," his mom said softly. "What happened, boys?"

Virgil glanced at Patton and gave a small nod of approval. Even without it, Patton was powerless to stop the truth that bubbled up and spilled out.

"We-ran-outside-and-then-met-up-with-the-others-but-we-saw-Roman-needed-help-and-he-got-hurt-and-there-was-a-dragon-and-it-took-Logan-and-Remus-and-I-threw-embers-at-another-dragon's-face-except-it-was-a-person-kind-of-I-didn't-know-dragons-turned-into-people-and-we-took-Roman-to-the-infirmary-and-I-helped-roll-bandages-and-we-helped-the-dragon-person-too-and-then-we-came-back-here-and-there's-a-big- _hole_ -in-the-ceiling-and-we-don't-know-how-to-fix-it-because-the-dragons-took-everything-and—"

"Whoa, breathe!" Mom told Patton, miming a huge breath with puffed-out cheeks. Patton took a deep breath with her and the antsy words settled down.

"That was a lot to process," his mama said. "Virgil, could you give us the highlights?"

Virgil counted on his fingers. "Roman got hurt, Logan and Remus got swooped up, Patton burned a dragon's face."

"Burned it?" their mom repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Wow."

"It was attacking Roman," Patton said, feeling vaguely like he had done something wrong.

"I'm not mad at you, Patton. It sounds like you were very brave."

"And badass," Mama chimed in. "We've raised him right, Runa."

Mom chuckled. "You're a terrible influence."

"I wasn't all that brave," Patton mumbled. "Anyway, Virgil shot it with his crossbow."

It was Virgil's turn to flush. "It didn't do anything!"

"Still, firing a crossbow and hitting your target under pressure?" Their mama ruffled Virgil's hair fondly. "No wonder we keep you around. Patty's probably alive thanks to you."

"I am," Patton agreed, giving Virgil a smile. Virgil flushed deeper and buried his face in their mom's shoulder.

"Alright, alright." Mom gently pushed Patton and Virgil away, walking over to the store counter and grabbing a few vegetables and crackers from the display. "It's past lunchtime, but we could have an afternoon snack?"

Patton's stomach rumbled. He hadn't even realized how hungry he was. "Virgil? Are you hungry?"

Virgil nodded, collapsing onto a nearby cracker barrel and curling his knees up to his chest.

Patton giggled. "That's not where—"

"You can't make me move," Virgil said.

"There are chairs right there!"

"Chairs are for the weak."

"Well, okay." Patton shrugged, sitting on an actual chair. "Whatever you say, kiddo."

Their mom tossed them some crackers and carrots. Their mama gave them each a cookie. When Mom gave her a disapproving look, she rolled her eyes and said "They survived a dragon raid. They get cookies."

Patton focused on nibbling at his cookie. Mom and Mama were talking about something he didn't really understand. Virgil bit the top off his carrot but didn't eat anything else. Patton frowned at him. He said he was hungry!

"Um," Virgil said, staring at his half-eaten carrot. "Mom? Mama?"

"Yes?"

"What's up?"

Virgil clenched his jaw. "Do you know what happened to Logan and Remus?"

Patton's mothers exchanged a glance. "Sorry, Virgil," Mom said. "No."

"Oh." Virgil sunk, his shoulders hunching up. "Okay."

"We'll hear from them soon," Patton said, smiling. "I bet we will."

"Alright." Virgil glanced at his carrot and uneaten cookie. "Um, Pat, you can have these. I'm not hungry."

Patton gladly took the cookie, but the worried expression on Virgil's face made the sugar turn sour in his mouth. He choked down the cookie anyway. It would be rude to waste it! And he might need all the food he could get, since all the tools were taken and the houses were burned down—

"Okay, pause." His mom spread her hands out. "Let's play Why-Five."

Virgil's eyebrows furrowed together. Patton tried not to look too nervous.

"First off. What's upsetting you boys?"

Virgil snorted. "You really need to ask that?"

"Humor me."

"Fine," Virgil said. "I'm upset because dragons attacked our town. Next question."

"And you, Pat?"

Patton bit his lip. "I'm upset 'cause Virgil's upset."

The truth. Not the whole truth.

"When did this happen?"

"Seriously? We all know what happened!" Virgil groaned. "This morning, I guess."

"Good. Where did it happen?"

"Our town."

"Who made you upset?"

"Dragons."

Their mom nodded. "And why does this make you upset?"

"Because people died!" Patton burst out, the words climbing through his lips. Stupid, stupid, stupid Fae blood. "Because people died and got hurt and I saw it and Roman's in the infirmary and I _hurt_ someone and I don't like it!"

"You didn't hurt _someone_ ," Virgil muttered.

Patton didn't respond. Maybe he _had_ hurt a dragon. But that dragon was also a kid his age.

Was it bad that he only felt guilty because the dragon looked human?

Patton shook himself. Okay, no! No ugly thoughts like that right now. Everyone was staring at him, Mom and Mama and Virgil, and they looked all worried so he had to prove he was okay.

"That's why," Patton said. "I guess."

"That makes sense," his mom said, voice soft. "Why did hurting that dragon upset you so much?"

Patton giggled. "You already ran out of questions! That's six!"

She laughed too. "Fine, I'm cheating. Give me this?"

Patton couldn't _not_ give her that. Sometimes he wondered if his moms really understood what it was like, not being able to lie. He was adopted as a baby—neither of them had Fae blood. Neither of them felt the compulsion to tell the truth, harsh and confining and almost painful. Maybe they assumed he just liked to tell the truth, or he was just predisposed to be honest. He guessed he'd never really explained the extent of it.

Well, that was for another time. Maybe, if all went well, never ever.

"It upset me," Patton said slowly, trying to find the minimum amount of truth that would satisfy the burning in his mouth, "because I don't like hurting things."

"I understand." His mom reached out and squeezed his hand. Virgil and Mama watched quietly. Patton's skin itched under their stares. "You're such an empathetic person, it makes sense that you wouldn't like doing that. And that's a good thing! It's what makes you _you_ , and what makes you a good person."

Did good people hurt other things? Other _people?_ Even if that dragon was just a dragon, he hurt an animal. And it wasn't just a dragon—or it was—it was human, or it could look like one.

It would have hurt Roman. It would have hurt Roman. It would have hurt Roman.

Patton smiled at his mom and pressed all his doubts and worries into a small square in his chest.

And she bought it, smiling back and ruffling his hair. She bought the cheerful voice he used for the rest of the afternoon, the excuse of taking a nap that led him and Virgil upstairs. And Virgil bought Patton's smile too, bought his fake concern for Virgil's sleeping schedule that let Patton sleep in Virgil's bed instead of his own wet bed in his wet room, hugging Virgil as they slept because Patton was greedy and selfish and _fake_. He wanted everything, and he tried not to hurt people, but he could never seem to stop himself.

They all bought his act, of course. Why wouldn't they?

Patton Foster couldn't lie.

The next day found Patton sitting cross-legged on the road, sharing a lettuce and mayonnaise sandwich with Virgil. He regretted not bringing some water—the hot summer sun dried his mouth and seared his back. But he couldn't leave. Him and Virgil had been waiting in line for an hour, and if either of them left, there was no guarantee they'd be able to regain their spot.

Ahead of Patton was a young woman with a squalling baby tucked in her arms. Behind him was Virgil, kicking at the ground, and behind Virgil a pair of older men. If Virgil wasn't there, Patton would have already traded spots with the older men and probably ten other people. But Virgil was here, and Patton wouldn't sacrifice Virgil's spot.

Patton hummed to himself, trying to count the people ahead of them. It seemed like half the town was in line with them. He said as much to Virgil, who fired back "Yeah, and the other half are inside on the beds."

The library was the biggest building in town, thanks to a rich old man giving the librarians lots of funding a long time ago. It had a large clock tower in front of the columned entryway, saying that it was half past one. Patton remembered the big hand being a lot farther left when they first started, but they'd been really early. Hoping to avoid the rush, Patton and Virgil camped out on the road as soon as they finished chores—which was earlier than usual, since most of the chores involved metal stuff they didn't have anymore.

They didn't avoid the rush. Everyone else had the same idea. There were almost fifty people in front of Patton, and way more behind him. Somewhere down the line a fight had broken out over a spot, people yelling at each other. Patton wished people would come together during a tragedy instead of turning on each other.

Well, that was kind of negative. Most people were fine! Great, in fact! It was just a very loud group of mad people that brought all the rest down. Maybe it was too early to generalize. It had only been a day and a half.

The line scooted forward a few inches. Patton picked up his half of the sandwich and stepped into the open spot, sitting down again. Virgil stayed on his feet, scanning the crowds of people. The doors of the library were tantalizingly close, open and dark and cool. Patton licked his lips and cursed his past self for not bringing any water.

"At this rate, we won't get inside until harvest." Virgil sat down next to Patton, glowering. "I still think we should have just snuck in the back way."

"That's trespassing!" Patton protested.

"Logan showed us where the key was. It's just, like, a surprise visit from friends. Except we're not friends and we're not telling them we're visiting."

"It wouldn't be fair," Patton said for the eighth time. "If all these people have to wait, we should too! What makes us more special than anyone else here?"

"Well, for starters," Virgil said, "we know where the back-door key is."

"Virgil!" Patton sighed. " _If_ you did try to break in, and you failed, we'd lose our spot. Then we'd just be worse off."

Virgil gave him an impressed look. "You didn't stick to the moral high ground very long, did you? The heat must be getting to you."

"I'm appealing to your base and vile nature," Patton said, raising his nose in the air. He only kept the snooty appearance for a second before dissolving into giggles. Virgil chuckled too, finishing off his sandwich.

"Chopsticks?" Patton said, holding out his hands.

"Sure."

Time passed. The little hand on the clock skidded around. The bells didn't ring on the quarter-hour. They'd been stolen.

"I'm just saying," Virgil said, lying on his back, "we could kick in a window and be inside—"

Patton folded his arms. "We're playing I Spy now."

"Whatever you say."

Time continued to pass. Patton's stomach rumbled and he was pretty sure he was getting dehydrated. At least it was cooling down as the sun sunk lower in the sky.

"I've got chores to do," Virgil said, knees kicked up to his chest, "and if we don't get out of here by sundown our moms are _going_ to kill us—"

"Rock paper scissors," Patton said, holding out his hands.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

Time steadily existed. They thought up elaborate new rules to rock paper scissors until Virgil won when his 'dissolving the fabric of reality' beat Patton's 'locust plague.'

"Just in and out, wouldn't take a second," Virgil said, chin in his hands, "and I'd be able to tell my stupid brain that Roman's _fine_."

Patton looked at the library door. Only five people, but that seemed like an eternity to wait. "Do you think you could do it without getting caught?"

Virgil almost laughed. "Who are you and what have you done with Patton Foster?"

"Well, could you?"

"We've been talking about it openly for hours," Virgil pointed out. "Someone nearby will rat us out."

Patton was doubtful. A toddler was crying, someone was singing 99 Bottles of Beer, and those two people arguing had been replaced by two other people arguing. Personally, if someone around them had declared they were going to flood the town with maple syrup, he wouldn't care enough to stop them. He was hot and bothered and just wanted to go home.

But he couldn't. He needed to see if Roman was okay. If Logan and Remus were there.

If that dragon was okay.

"What now?" Virgil asked. "The Alphabet Game?"

"Sure," Patton said, lying down and staring up at the sky.

They got through the alphabet three-and-a-quarter times before they were seated on the library stairs, watching the open doors with hunger. Nobody in front of them. Now someone just had to leave.

"Let's just make a break for it," Virgil whispered. "Dash through. They can't stop us."

The woman at the entrance gave them a _don't-even-try-it_ look. Patton smiled and waved, trying to look unthreatening. It was something that came naturally to him, so she smiled and waved back.

Finally, after an agonizing eon of straining for the sound of someone nearing the door, two young men walked down the steps next to them. The woman nodded at Patton and Virgil, who whooped and high-fived before dashing into the building.

It was so cool! Patton breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, the air smelled vaguely of smoke, blood, and medicine, but it was dark and refreshingly _cold_. The usual atrium was empty. The librarian who always checked Patton in was replaced by a man in overalls who frowned at them. Patton smiled back. Maybe he was having a bad day!

"Who're you for," he drawled.

Virgil made a squeaking noise at the prospect of answering a stranger's question. Patton stepped in front of him. "We're here to see Roman Velasquez?"

"Are you family?"

"No, friends! Patton Foster and Virgil Washington!"

"Hmm." The man blinked slowly. "I think he's upstairs. If I'm wrong, ask someone who isn't bleeding."

"Um, okay!" Patton said. "Thanks so much!"

Pulling Virgil along—Virgil's feet seemed unable to move in the presence of Another Human—Patton led them around the booth towards the stairs.

"Oh!" Patton said, remembering. "Are Remus Velasquez and Logan Nguyen here?"

The man blinked again. "Logan Crawford?"

"No, Nguyen."

"I dunno anyone here with that name."

Patton frowned. "Is it possible you forgot?"

"Not really." The man took a book from the shelf behind him and began to flip through it. "Good day."

Patton opened his mouth to ask if he couldn't help out just a little more, but Virgil yanked his sleeve and tugged him through the doorway. Gently, Patton removed Virgil's grip from his clothes.

"You alright, kiddo?" Patton looked Virgil over. "That was stressful, wasn't it?"

"I did not expect there to be people," Virgil hissed. "I was not prepared."

"Hey, you did well!" Patton encouraged him. "Anyway, you shot a crossbow bolt at a _dragon_ , Virge. If you can do that, you can survive a conversation with someone else."

"Yes, but dragons don't _expect_ anything from you!" Virgil waved his hands frantically. "Yes, they're scary and I hate them, but I know what they'll do! Humans are complicated and weird and _judge_ you for everything!"

"If you say so," Patton said, smiling. "Come on. We should go see Roman."

Virgil nodded, and they slipped through the narrow passage into the rotunda.

Patton remembered coming here as a little kid, grabbing the few picture books they offered and sitting at a small polished desk, devouring them one by one. That's where he'd met Logan—sitting together, pretending to grownups, in a room full of sawdust and old jacket covers and peeling gold lettering and a stained-glass window sending colored shards of light across the black-and-white floor.

All those things were still there. The grand arches were still there, the balconies and teetering bookshelves and little nooks were still there. But every space was filled with beds. Some were clean white hospital beds, others straw beds that had clearly been donated from homes and basements. Doctors and nurses rushed around. A few wore the standard white linen uniforms. The majority at least had a cotton band around their head, denoting them as caretakers, but some didn't even have those. People stood around, clustered around beds, talking among themselves. The entire place was quiet, except for the occasional shout of pain as someone was bled or a bone was set into place.

Patton tried not to look at the people in the beds, but beds covered the tiled floor and were crammed into every area. It was impossible to ignore the faces, the burns, the blood.

"Where's Roman?" Virgil asked. His voice was tight.

"I don't know." Patton braced himself and looked closer at each face. Some, fortunately, he didn't recognize. Others were all too familiar. People he remembered from school, or knew from the shop, or had just seen around town. "That's a small town for you," Mom would say. "Everyone knows everyone else."

Patton narrowed his eyes. "There!" A small bed was propped up in a corner, the occupant wearing red pajama pants.

Virgil immediately ran down the aisle towards him, jumping around people and muttering hasty apologies. Patton followed, not as quickly, giving people even more apologies as he passed. The stench of blood and singed clothing was even stronger in the midst of the people. Patton took very shallow breaths and hoped his nose would get used to it soon.

Virgil skidded to a stop next to Roman's bed. Nobody was there with him—his family must have already visited. There was an empty chair next to him, which Virgil crumpled into. Patton leaned against the bookshelf. They were in the foreign language section. A reading desk had been shoved to the side to make room for Roman.

"Look," Virgil said. "Look, brain. He's fine. Stop _freaking out_ about it."

Roman did look…fine. He was asleep, and his skin was pale, but the wound was wrapped expertly with crisp white bandages. He turned in his sleep slightly and a bit of pain crossed his expression.

"Don't wake him up," called a doctor as he passed. "He needs the rest."

Patton nodded. Although it was a shame that they couldn't talk to Roman, making sure he was okay was the top priority. And he was! He was in good hands.

"How long do you want to stay?" Patton asked, thinking of the people waiting outside.

"Just another minute." Virgil shifted. "Actually, um, Pat? Could you give us some privacy?"

Patton smiled. "Sure thing, kiddo! I'll be around the corner if you need me."

Virgil smiled back wanly. Patton walked around the bookshelf back into the main rotunda. Behind him, he heard Virgil start talking. Aww, Virge really was a softy, wasn't he?

There was a scream of pain nearby, and Patton flinched. This wasn't a fun place to wait. Maybe he should read a book! Where was the fiction section again? He looked over at the shelves, careful to ignore the beds sitting between them. It had to be right about—

Wait.

Was that who Patton thought it was?

Fiction section forgotten, Patton peered at a bed on the far wall. It was set apart from everyone else and no visitors crowded around the foot. Someone was lying on it, someone with long brown hair and bandages on the side of their face.

Patton couldn't be sure, but he had a guess.

Glancing guiltily around, and promising himself this would only take a second, Patton crept between the beds and made a beeline for the dragon. Once again, he apologized to everyone he bumped into and everyone he didn't. Once again, he stared straight ahead and pretended he had blinders on, like a horse, so he couldn't see the injured people on either side.

As Patton approached, the more confident he was. Yep. This was the dragon. Lying on a bed, which meant the hospital people had cared for him anyway. Did they know? Was dragon biology different than human? If they had known, would they still have helped him? Should it make a difference that he got hurt _attacking_ the town instead of defending it?

Patton knew there was a huge difference. But it was hard to hold onto that when the dragon looked so _small_.

He was asleep. He had to be, he hadn't moved as Patton approached. His long hair was tangled and bandages crisscrossed his face. They were still wearing that dirty tunic and too-small pants.

"What are you staring at?"

Patton jumped. The dragon's eyes opened, shining in his pale face like yellow spotlights.

"Um, nothing!" Patton squeaked. He really didn't want the dragon killing him in revenge. "I'll just…be going now! Bye!"

The dragon rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to kill you. I have a second-degree burn down the side of my face."

"Oh." Patton was torn between relief and guilt. "Um, that's not good."

"No, it's not," the dragon agreed. "I'm lucky dragons heal faster than humans or this would be even more of a nightmare than it already is."

"Cool," Patton said. He didn't know if he should smile or not. This entire conversation was very strange.

The dragon closed his eyes, a clear signal that he was done talking. Patton bounced on the balls of his feet for a second. He should apologize, shouldn't he? No, he hadn't done anything wrong. The dragon should apologize! No? Yes? This was so _confusing!_ It would just be weird to apologize for that, anyway. He hardly knew this dragon.

And the dragon hadn't actually acknowledged that Patton did it. Maybe he didn't even remember, and if Patton apologized he'd get mad! Patton really didn't want an angry dragon attacking him in the middle of the rotunda. Other people might get hurt!

Still, it didn't seem _right_ to just walk away.

"What's your name?" Patton asked.

The dragon's eyes flew open. "What?"

"What's your name?" Patton smiled. "I've been calling you 'dragon' in my head the whole time. My name's Patton Foster! It's nice to meet you!"

The dragon stared at him warily. "What are you playing at?"'

"Huh?"

"You want something." The dragon sat up, wincing. "What is it?"

"Hey, lie down!" Patton waved his hands at him. "You're still healing!"

The dragon looked even more confused, but slowly lay back down. Patton counted that as a success.

"Look, I don't _want_ anything from you," Patton said. "I'm just curious. That's all."

"Names are dangerous," the dragon said, smirking. "You probably shouldn't have told me yours, _Patton_."

"You're not a Fae, are you? 'Cause neither am I. So I think it's fine." Patton held out his hand. "Let's try this again. I'm Patton Foster, it's nice to meet you."

The dragon stared at his hand.

"You don't have to shake it," Patton said sheepishly. "It was just, I dunno, being extra polite."

The dragon nodded slowly, watching the hand like it was a small rabbit that confused him greatly. Finally, he opened his mouth, swallowed, and said "Janus."

"What?"

"My name." The dragon turned away. "I can't say it's nice to meet you, because honestly, I wish I never saw you."

"Fair." Patton rolled the name 'Janus' around in his head. It seemed appropriately mysterious and powerful.

"Patton?"

Patton glanced back towards Roman's bed and saw Virgil looking around.

"Oh, goodness, I have to go!" Patton said. "I'm so sorry, Janus!"

"Wow, there _is_ mercy in the world."

Patton chose to ignore the slight. "It really was nice talking to you! I can come back if you want!"

Janus rolled over so his back was to Patton. "Oh, yes, please do, I _love_ being bothered while I'm trying to rest."

"Great!" Patton smiled. "I'll see you soon, then!"

"That's not what I—"

Patton waved goodbye, despite Janus not being able to see him, and skipped across the room to Virgil. There really was nothing like making a friend—well, they weren't exactly friends, and Patton _had_ burned Janus' face badly, and Janus _had_ attacked Roman, but Patton prided himself on being able to get along with anyone. He might never truly _like_ Janus, and Janus might never truly like him. Still, it was best if Patton had a rapport with the dragon, and he seemed to have done alright!

The bounce in his step faded when he saw Virgil's glare.

"What," Virgil said, "were you doing?"

"Oh." Patton smiled sheepishly. "Visiting the dragon?"

"I know that!" Virgil snapped. "It was a rhetorical question. Why were you visiting the _dragon?_ "

"Janus," Patton corrected.

"Janus?" Virgil repeated. "You—you got his name?"

"He gave it to me!" Patton smiled. "He was very nice. Well, not nice, but he didn't threaten me or anything!"

"Great. Just wonderful." Virgil rubbed at his face. "Patton, I know you're the most trusting person out there and you believe there's good in everyone, but _seriously?_ There are some things we don't mess with. Just leave him alone so you don't get hurt."

Patton stared at his feet. "He couldn't hurt me. He's all burned."

"There's more than one way to hurt people."

"Virgil," Patton pleaded. "I'm not going to talk to him again. I just wanted to make sure he was okay."

"Why do you care?" Virgil asked. "He hurt _Roman_ , Pat! He helped burn our town and you're _defending_ him?"

"I'm not!" Patton folded his arms. "What he did was despicable. But just because he's morally wrong doesn't mean he should _die_."

"He won't die," Virgil said softly.

"He could have," Patton mumbled.

"You did what you had to." Virgil gave Patton a small smile. "Roman's alive because of you."

"I know." Patton glanced across the beds towards Janus. "I just wish I could have helped him without hurting someone else."

"It's not someone else," Virgil reminded him. "It's a dragon who attacked our town."

"Yeah," Patton said unconvincingly.

"I get that it feels bad," Virgil said. "But it's in the past now, okay? There's nothing we can do about it. You made your choice. And you don't ever have to see Janus again."

Patton drew up his head and nodded, trying to summon confidence. "Right."

"Right." Virgil took Patton's hand. "Come on. We'll be late for supper if we don't hurry, and I'm starving."

"Me too," Patton said.

They left the rotunda together, hand in hand.

It took all of Patton's willpower not to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> virgil's speech to Roman amounted to "don't die you idiot, it ruins my plans to kill you myself as revenge for what you did to my hoodie last year"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: discussion of death and kidnapping, grief, fire and burns, arguing,

Supper that night was salad and bread, eaten with wooden forks. The metal dishes had been taken, so they used china plates and bowls instead. Patton didn't understand why dragons only took iron objects. But he did understand, now, how they could have stolen such small objects. They'd just have to fly in, turn into humans when no one was looking, and take the dishes. A lot of things made sense now that he knew a little more about dragons.

It was a quiet supper. Virgil and Patton briefly told them about the visit to the library, but since Patton didn't want to tell his moms about Janus—he had the feeling they might not be too thrilled about it—there wasn't much else to say. Patton munched on salad and ignored Virgil's occasional piercing looks. He expected his moms to comment on the silence, but they _also_ stared at their salad and didn't talk.

Finally Mama looked at Mom and they had a silent conversation. Mom put down her fork.

"Boys…" Mama placed her hands on the table. "There's something we need to tell you."

Virgil's hand jerked and he almost spilled salad onto the table. " _What?"_

Usually Mom would say 'Nothing bad, I promise.' This time she only squeezed his hand.

Virgil glanced between them, looking more and more nervous. Patton took Virgil's other hand.

"We were at the town meeting today," Mama began, drawing out each word. "Everyone's accounted for, except…"

Patton forgot how to breathe. Virgil's grip on his hand was painful. Blood pounded in his ears. He stared at his moms, trying to spy any inkling of hope, see anything that told him _something_ that wasn't what he thought they were saying.

"Except what?" Patton asked, trying to smile. "Finish your sentences!"

"They're gone," Virgil whispered, eyes wide. "Aren't they?"

Something in Mom's expression broke, and something in Mama's eyes softened.

"No one has seen Logan or Remus since the raid."

Virgil made a little choked noise.

"That doesn't mean they're not alive," Mom hastily added. "Just that they haven't been found."

"Runa."

Mom glanced at Mama. "And…well, there _have_ been some witnesses. It seems most likely that they've, well, been taken. By the dragons."

"What?" Patton hated the way his voice cracked. "Dragons _do_ that?"

"Sometimes," Mama answered. "Nobody knows why."

Virgil shook his head numbly. "They're _gone?"_

"Hey," Patton whispered, "they're not gone. They're okay."

"'Okay?' You call _kidnapped by dragons_ 'okay?'" Virgil's eyes were wild. "They're probably getting eaten or something!"

Patton flinched. "Kiddo—"

"Sorry," Virgil muttered.

"They're alive," Patton amended, running his thumb over Virgil's palm. "That's better than nothing."

Virgil glared at nothing in particular. "Is anyone going after them?"

"We don't have enough willing citizens for a rescue mission," Mom murmured. "It's not safe enough for anyone to risk it. I'm sorry."

"See?" Virgil spat. "They're not dead, but they're as good as." He pulled his hand out of Patton's. "Just when I think I've got something dragons can't destroy, boom! They burn it to the damn ground."

"Virgil—"

"Forget it." Virgil kicked his chair out and stood up. "I'm—I'm going to my room, Pat. Talk to you later."

Patton opened his mouth to say _something_ , something that would fix this. Virgil was gone before he could. His footsteps rang loud on the stairs.

"Patton," Mama started.

Patton didn't wait around to hear the rest of that sentence. Or worse, a question he couldn't help but answer. Quickly he shoveled down the rest of his salad, tossed the dishes in the sink, and sped upstairs with an "I'm tired, gonna take a nap!" Nobody followed.

Virgil's door was closed. Patton knocked on it. Nobody answered.

"I'll be here," Patton said into the keyhole. "If you need me."

He didn't sleep that night, staring at the hole in his ceiling, straining for any sign of movement from Virgil. On other nights Virgil might have knocked on his door, small and scared, and they'd end up cuddling or telling stories or playing games until Virgil felt better. Tonight there was nothing. Just a hot night filled with bugs that bit at Patton's arms.

When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were filled with dragons and fires and burning scales.

A few times he woke up, heart pounding, watching that hole like he expected to see flames lighting up the sky. Or the door, like he selfishly wished Virgil or his moms would come check on him.

But there were no fires and no Virgil. Just Patton, trying his very best to sleep.

Virgil didn't talk to Patton for a day. Patton tried not to take it personally, but it did sting. Virgil just needed time, Patton knew that. He'd be okay. They'd be okay.

And sure enough, the next day, Virgil smiled at Patton over breakfast eggs and helped him with chores. He still didn't say much, but Patton understood.

They fixed the hole in the roof, with the help of the Acevedos down the road. They ordered new plates and cutlery and tools in the mail, hoping it would come back from the city as soon as possible. Patton volunteered with some rebuilding projects and Virgil helped distribute food. Mom and Mama spent a lot of time with the town council, talking through how they could bounce back from this. It wasn't even close to perfect, but somehow Patton found his balance, mostly by focusing on what he _could_ do and not what he couldn't. He focused on helping everyone around him, ignoring the two people he couldn't.

Roman was released from the library a few days later. It was evening, the sun setting in the distance. The library was closed to visitors. Virgil pulled Patton away from where he was grabbing eggs from the chickens and they ran to the library door. Patton had to stop himself from hugging the life out of Roman—he _was_ still injured—and settled for a wave and a huge smile.

"Careful," Virgil said, grabbing Roman's arm and helping him down the steps.

Roman huffed. "You know, I didn't hurt either of my legs. I can walk just fine."

Virgil didn't let go. Roman's expression softened and he slipped his hand into Virgil's. Virgil looked marginally comforted. Patton skipped alongside them, looking over Roman. He was a little pale and his entire shoulder was covered in bandages, but his smile was almost as bright as ever.

"You're an idiot," Virgil mumbled, helping Roman navigate a patch of uneven stone.

"Am I now?" Roman asked, watching the sun set between the buildings.

"Yes!" Virgil snapped. "Roman, you could have gotten yourself _killed!_ "

Roman winced. "Okay. Right out the gate, then."

"Virgil?" Patton asked, sensing trouble. "Maybe we save this until Roman's, you know, _home?_ Maybe even wait until he's healed?"

Virgil glared at Roman. "If he's well enough to walk, he's well enough to let me yell at him."

"Don't bother, Padre," Roman said, giving a half-hearted grin. "I knew this was coming."

"You're an idiot!" Virgil repeated, throwing up his hands in the air. "I hate you so much! What were you _thinking?_ You should have waited somewhere _safe_ instead of throwing yourself into a fight like the _reckless_ fool you are! Don't you have _any_ sense of self-preservation?"

"The dragon would have killed those people!" Roman fired back weakly.

"The dragon almost killed you!" Virgil looked exasperated. "What, is your life worth _less_ than those people? You did absolutely nothing but get yourself injured for some pursuit of glory!"

"This is not about 'glory,'" Roman argued. "It was about doing what's right."

"Yeah, because it's 'right' to throw yourself into dangerous situations—"

"Kiddos," Patton interrupted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Um, we really shouldn't be arguing right now—"

"I don't need your judgment!" Roman snapped, ignoring Patton entirely. "It's my life and I can make my own decisions! This is none of your business and it doesn't _affect_ you!"

"Yes, it does!" Virgil threw out a hand. "We had to save you! Patton—"

" _Please_ leave me out of this," Patton pleaded.

"Patton had to get you to safety! Patton attacked a _dragon_ for you, Roman! And thanks to you and your _stupidity_ , Remus and Logan were—"

Roman's eyes hardened. "So it's my fault that my brother and friend were kidnapped."

Virgil froze. "I—Roman, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine." Roman snatched his hand out of Virgil's and stalked down the road. "I get it."

"Roman!" Virgil called, running after him. "I—I didn't mean that, it just slipped out, of _course_ it's not your fault—"

"I get it!" Roman yelled. "Just stop talking! I'm going to fix it!"

"Wait, you—" Virgil stopped. "Wait, 'fix it?'"

"Fix it," Roman repeated. "I'll find them and I'll fix it."

"Find them?" Virgil blinked. "Wait—Roman, no way!"

"You just said it was my fault!" Roman said hysterically. "It makes sense!"

"But you can't just—" Virgil stepped closer to Roman, his face filled with incredulousness. "What, do you think you'll just stroll through the Iron Woods and knock on the dragons' door? You can't _do_ that!"

"Has anyone ever tried?" Roman pointed out.

"You don't need to try drinking poison to know it'll _freaking_ _kill you!"_

"Virgil." Roman's voice cracked. "Virgil, I need to do _something_."

"No, you don't," Virgil said. "No, you don't. You're hurt and you need to heal and you can't put yourself in danger for this."

"I—I have to!" Roman swiped at his eyes. "Virge, he's gone, they're both gone and I—"

"I know. Believe me, I know. But you can't—you're not hunting them down. I won't let you do that." Virgil sighed. "Roman, can I hug you?"

Roman nodded.

Virgil stepped forward and carefully wrapped his arms around Roman's middle, tucking his head on Roman's good shoulder. Roman lifted one arm and curled it around Virgil's shoulders, burying his face in Virgil's hair.

The sun was going down. The shadows lengthened around them. At the end of the road, the lantern lighter sent a burst of fire into the air. Half the lanterns had been taken, ripped from the ground. Nearby was a burned building, blackened and twisted.

"I hate this," Roman mumbled. "Not being able to help."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed.

Patton watched them, the sunset sending deep orange over their faces, still and silent on the cobblestone road.

Roman couldn't save them, he knew that. But if he didn't…who would?

"I'll do it."

Virgil frowned, peering over at Patton. "Do what, Pat?"

"I'll rescue them," Patton said, stepping forward.

"You're joking." Roman laughed. "You're joking, Padre."

"No, I'm not." Patton crossed his arms. "You're hurt but I'm not. It makes sense."

"It doesn't!" Virgil stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously, Pat, _what?_ We were just saying how we can't go and rescue them—"

"You were saying how _Roman_ can't go and rescue them." Patton's heart pounded, but he had never been more certain of anything in his life. "I can still do it."

"There are a million reasons why—" Virgil pushed himself out of Roman's arms and stalked forward, glowering. "Our moms would be mad."

"They'd understand!"

"No, they wouldn't! Because nobody would! Because you're being stupid!" Virgil threw up his hands. "Roman, back me up here!"

"I—" Roman glanced between them. "I think both arguments have…good points?"

"Thanks a lot," Virgil growled.

"I don't see what the problem is," Patton insisted. "I'll go to the Iron Woods, get Logan and Remus back from the dragons, and be back soon!"

"What do you mean you'll just _get them back?"_ Virgil yelled. "Are you just going to _ask politely?_ "

"Maybe?" Patton squeaked. "Nobody's actually tried diplomacy yet!"

"That's because they're _dragons!_ " Virgil waved a hand at the burned buildings nearby. "This happened _three days ago_ , Patton, and you're acting like you can just waltz into their home base and get our friends back?"

"No," Patton admitted. "But—I want to try."

"Pat." Virgil's eyes softened. "I get it. I really do. But I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't get hurt," Patton protested.

"How do you know that?" Virgil huffed. " _Dragons_ , Patton. Big with sharp teeth and fire."

Patton shrugged. "I dunno, Janus seemed okay."

" _One_ dragon who didn't immediately murder you does _not_ mean all the rest won't!" Virgil laughed hysterically, running his fingers through his hair. "Roman, back me up here!"

Roman looked over from where he was apparently trying to hide himself in the shadows. "Um, no opinion here, carry on with your arguing, preferably keeping me very far out of this."

"Coward," Virgil snapped.

"What do you want me to say?" Roman burst out. "Because, yes, I don't want Patton to get hurt! I think him going is a terrible idea! But you wouldn't let _me_ go, and I don't see anyone else stepping up! I care about Patton, but I care about my brother too! And I know it's a stupid idea that will just get Patton killed…but—" Roman shook his head. "Virgil, there's a chance that it'll _work_. An actual chance." Roman wiped at his eyes. "And it terrifies me how much I'm willing to risk for that chance."

Virgil's expression was unreadable. "A small chance."

"A tiny chance," Roman agreed, his voice small. "But a _chance_ , Virge."

"Yeah." Virgil swallowed, staring at his feet. "I get that."

"I won't get hurt," Patton promised. "I'll be careful. I'll bring supplies and if anything bad happens I'll turn around. Dragons don't kill people unprovoked, right? We're just collateral damage."

Virgil looked torn. "I dunno, I think sometimes—"

"They won't kill me." Patton spoke with all the conviction he didn't feel. "I can figure out why they want Logan and Remus and I can make some sort of deal with them, maybe? Or even find out why they need all that metal!"

"Fine," Virgil said grudgingly, "let's assume that by some miracle the dragons accept you as one of their own and bow before your wisdom. What about the Iron Woods?"

"Those don't actually exist, right?" Roman asked. "They're just a legend."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You say this in front of someone who's part faerie."

"I know, I know!" Roman held up his hands. "I'm not saying the fair folk aren't real. I'm just saying there's no evidence the Iron Woods actually are where everyone says they are."

"That's true," Virgil admitted. "But just because nobody's seen them doesn't mean they're not there!"

Roman laughed. "Don't tell Logan that, he'd get mad."

Virgil didn't laugh. Patton pressed his lips together and ignored the ugly twist in his stomach.

"But if the Fae _are_ actually there," Roman said, "you're right. That would be a problem."

"Did you just admit I'm right? Never thought I'd see the day."

"Don't let yourself get a big head."

"Okay," Patton said, stepping between them. "I…I have an idea."

He didn't, actually. He had the start of a terrible idea that probably wouldn't work and that Virgil definitely wouldn't like. But it was a start. It was a start.

Patton knew he wasn't going to turn back. He was going to save Remus and Logan. He was going to fight on Roman's behalf. He was going to help people, because that's what Patton did. Helped and never hurt. And if he wasn't helping, he was hurting. He was going to help because it was the right thing to do.

"Hear me out," Patton said. "I'll explore some options and if it's not working, we won't do this. But I want to check out a few possibilities? If that's okay?"

"I guess," Virgil said, side-eyeing Roman. "Yeah?"

"I…" Roman winced. "I'd really like to, but I haven't been home for three days?"

"Oh!" Patton gasped. "Right! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine." Roman waved a hand. "Actually, now that I think about it, let's do this."

"Really?" Virgil asked.

Roman winced and looked away. "My parents are…not doing very well right now."

Patton's eyes widened and he resisted the urge to glomp Roman in a hug. Roman was injured. Patton couldn't just tackle-hug him, even though he clearly _really needed_ a tackle-hug.

"I love you," Patton said instead.

"Uh, yeah!" Roman looked confused but gratified. "Love you too, Pat!"

"Great." Patton tapped his fingers together. "And you'd love me no matter what I said we were doing, right?"

"What are we doing?" Virgil asked, looking more and more alarmed.

"Nothing that bad!" Patton said hastily. "Just…kind of not-good. By my standards, anyway."

"Yeah?" Roman looked sort of excited. "Okay!"

Patton took a deep breath.

"Help me break into the library."

It wasn't actually breaking in. It wasn't _actually_ breaking in. It _wasn't_ actually breaking in.

Patton recited that to himself over and over as they snuck in the back door of the library.

It was dark inside. Virgil immediately tripped and swore loudly. Patton tried to shush him while simultaneously reaching for a wall. Eventually his eyes adjusted to the dimness and he saw the shapes of the back passageway, a few boxes of books by the wall.

"Where do we go?" Roman asked.

"Shh!" Patton said again.

"I think it's this way?" Virgil said, pointing.

"I can't see where you're pointing," Roman complained. "It's dark."

"Shh!"

Virgil led the way to the rotunda, slipping through the halls and creeping around corners. Patton followed, tripping over his own feet and stumbling into boxes. Even Roman was more stealthy than him, and Roman had a wounded arm.

They stopped at the rotunda. Despite the lateness of the hour, doctors and nurses still bustled around, the candlelight throwing splashes of orange over their faces. Shadows lurked between the bookshelves, pooled across the floor, and hung from the ceiling.

"What now?" Patton asked as quietly as possible.

"Wasn't this your idea?" Virgil hissed. "I don't even know why we're here! Well, I mean, I've kind of figured it out but it _better_ not be what I think it is."

Patton giggled. "Ah-heh, um, okay then. Right."

"They won't be able to see us in the dark," Roman pointed out. "If you're planning to walk out there, act like you belong and it'll probably be fine."

Patton was starting to regret this plan. He should have at least waited until the library opened in the morning.

"Come on," Roman said, shoving them into the rotunda. "No turning back now."

Patton squeaked and tried to look natural.

"Oh, you're coming too!" Virgil grabbed Roman's arm and tugged him forward. "No getting out of this."

Roman kicked Virgil in the knee, and Virgil swore at him. Patton frantically tried to quiet them. The nurse nearest to them slowed, her candle swinging around to face them.

"Walk," Roman whispered. "Now."

So Patton, Virgil, and Roman walked down the aisle between hospital beds. Patton tiptoed on his feet and tried to look taller than five foot three. Roman drew up his chin and Virgil tapped manically on his leg.

"So where are we going?" Roman whispered.

Patton braced himself for the explosion. "Um, we're visiting Janus?"

"I knew it." Virgil's voice was strangled. "I knew it."

"Wait, what?" Roman asked. "Who?"

"Janus," Virgil repeated. "Aka the dragon who, you know, attacked you."

" _What?_ " Roman yelled.

A dozen candles swiveled in their direction.

Virgil swore and tugged them both into a gap between shelves, slapping his hand over Roman's mouth. Patton held his breath and prayed for the people to look away. He couldn't see whether they were looking at them, but that was a good sign because maybe they couldn't see him, either.

Finally Patton breathed a sigh of relief as nobody came over to check on them. Crime-committing was very stressful. He was never doing this again.

"What," Roman repeated calmly.

"What?" Patton asked.

"You know his name?" Roman asked.

"Yes."

"You talked to him?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Roman clicked his tongue. "I don't know how I feel about that."

"Me either," Patton admitted.

"Look." Virgil pushed himself off the shelf. "This is a terrible idea, but we're already in the library, so let's just get this over with."

"Okay." Patton said. "Where is he?"

"You're the one who talked to him!"

"Um." Patton scanned the beds. "I think he was that direction? Wait, where'd we come in from again?"

"Come on." Virgil groaned. "Pat, I love you, but this was a terrible idea."

"Sorry."

"Well, the entrance is over there," Roman said, pointing. "And my bed was there. Does that help?"

Patton stuck his tongue between his teeth and pointed at the different spots. "Okay, so if I—it was like, diagonal—got it!" Patton clapped his hands. "It's across that way!"

"You sure?" Virgil asked.

"Paw-sitive!"

"Alright then." Virgil led them across the floor, dipping around beds and avoiding as many people as possible. "This way?"

"Little more to the left!"

"There's a bed in the way to the left!"

"Not that far left!"

Virgil sighed and kept walking. Patton directed him as needed and soon they came to a group of beds near the wall. Patton scanned the people around them. Most were asleep. None of them were Janus.

"What does Janus look like?" Roman asked.

"Long brown hair," Patton said. "Yellow eyes. A giant burn on his face."

"What?"

"Long story."

"Um, okay." Roman looked around. "Is that him?"

Patton looked over. Yep. It was Janus, lying on his side with his hand tucked under his head. He was—oh. He was staring right at them, his eyes glittering in the candlelight.

"Um," Patton whispered. "Can dragons see in the dark?"

"What—" Virgil looked at Janus. "Oh no."

"He won't hurt us," Patton said, trying to convince himself. "He's still hurt."

"That may be," Roman said, "but I am really regretting not bringing my sword."

Janus' shoulders tensed.

Patton glanced at Roman. "I think he heard you."

"He'd better," Virgil muttered. "I don't like this, Pat. I don't."

"He's a dragon!" Patton whispered. "If anyone can tell us what dragons are like and how to get Logan and Remus back, it's him!"

"That's—" Roman paused. "Hey, that's actually a good point."

Virgil growled. "I hate that you're right. Fine, we'll try it your way. Let's talk to him."

Patton stepped around a bed and walked towards Janus, waving hello. Janus' eyes narrowed and he pushed himself off the bed so that his legs swung around to the floor.

"Are you supposed to do that?" Patton asked.

Janus snorted. "Yes, because my facial injury renders me incapable of movement."

It was true that his face looked better. Not great, but better. The bandages were smaller and the skin around the burn was starting to heal. It would leave a scar, Patton could tell, but it hopefully wouldn't leave any long-term damage.

"Okay, so hi." Patton waved again. "We need to talk to you!"

"We." Janus' eyes skimmed over Virgil and Roman. "Who is we?"

"This is Virgil, and this is Roman!" Patton pointed to Virgil. "He's my best friend and favorite human!"

Virgil winced slightly.

"And Roman's my other best friend and other favorite human!" Patton continued. "So what happened is two of my other best friends and favorite humans got kidnapped!"

Janus watched him warily. "You are ruining the meaning of the terms 'favorite' and 'best'."

"Well, I have a lot of friends!" Patton gasped. "Oh! You can be my favorite dragon!"

Somehow Janus' suspicious and contemptuous glare grew even more suspicious and contemptuous.

"So our friends got kidnapped," Patton continued, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "By some of your dragon friends? And—"

"Death or ransom?"

"What?"

"You either want to kill me or use me as a bargaining tool," Janus explained. "Which is it?"

"Neither! No!" Patton stared at him in horror. "What? That's terrible!"

"It is, but I suppose you wouldn't care about my opinion on the matter." Janus spread his hands. "Death or kidnapping? I understand if you need time to choose."

"We're not doing either of those!" Patton insisted.

"I dunno…" Virgil smirked. "I think both ideas have merit, we could just—"

"Virgil!" Patton exclaimed.

"I'm just saying it would solve our problem—"

Patton opened his mouth to firmly tell Virgil that murder or kidnapping was _not_ the solution here, two wrongs did _not_ make a right, when Janus stood up, chucked a candle at them, and bolted.

Oh. Oops.

"Virgil," Patton said tightly. "He's running away now."

"I was joking!" Virgil protested. "I thought it was obvious!"

"Clearly not to him," Roman said, watching Janus leap over several beds and disappear through the front door. A few doctors and nurses yelled at him but he didn't turn around.

"Great," Patton said. Okay, that was too bitter. He injected a bunch of bounce into his words and ran forward. "Fantastic! Wonderful! Let's go!"

Roman and Virgil followed. Doctors and nurses were staring at them, a few stepping forward to ask them questions.

"Sorry!" Patton called. "We committed a crime and we're very sorry! Goodbye!"

Virgil made a choked noise that could have been laughter or tears.

Roman reached the doors first and slammed them open. Virgil and Patton followed, darting around the passageway to the atrium. The man at the desk was asleep, drooling on the wood. The library doors swung in the wind. It was even darker outside than Patton remembered—he tripped twice on the way down the steps.

"Where—" Virgil panted, hands on his knees. "Where'd he go?"

"There!" Roman pointed. A small figure was running down the road. Patton ran forward, cupping his hands around his mouth and calling Janus' name. Janus didn't slow down.

"We're not going to hurt you!" Patton yelled. "I promise!"

Janus seemed to run even faster.

"Come on!" Roman complained. "You're our best shot at finding my brother and you're running away, which is very rude! I'll have you know I'm injured!"

"Not helping, Princey."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Please!" Patton yelled. He was running out of breath. "Can we please talk?"

Janus finally, finally slowed down. Patton could see his silhouette as he stumbled to a stop, the last dying embers of sunlight behind him, feet planted squarely on the pavement.

Then he doubled over and his shadow lengthened.

Two wings burst out of his back, stretching into the air. They flapped once, the webbing catching the air, taller than Patton. When Patton looked back down at Janus he was gone, replaced by four strong legs and a tail curled around them. Two horns accentuated the bridge over his eyes, which glowed yellow in the lanternlight.

"Oh no," Patton whispered. "Oh _no_."

"He's gonna freak everyone out," Virgil added, eyes wide, his hands already shaking. "Everyone's gonna be _terrified_ , this is _really_ bad—"

Janus—well, the dragon, the dragon that was Janus, although it was hard to hold onto that when Patton was faced with two glowing yellow eyes and a pattern of burns over the scales—flapped his wings again, pushing off the pavement. He didn't get far. The street was narrow and his wings couldn't stretch all the way. He stumbled back to the ground, hissing at them.

"He can't take off," Patton realized.

Janus hissed again, louder, and a wisp of fire spat towards them. But it fizzled out before it reached them. Patton had a feeling that was on purpose.

"What do we do?" Roman yelled, waving his hand helplessly.

"I don't know!" Virgil said, looking equally helpless and even more terrified.

Janus lowered himself on his haunches, tail bristling, wings folded around him. His teeth were bared. He growled low in his throat, rattling Patton's bones.

But he wasn't attacking. He was just…preparing. He just wanted to defend himself.

He was scared.

Patton gathered all his courage and hoped Fae luck had his back.

He held up his hands and slowly walked forward.

"Hey," Patton said, "Janus. I get it. This is probably super overwhelming right now and it totally makes sense that you want to leave! But you can't right now. You're still injured, you can't take off from here, and we need your help."

"What are you doing?" Virgil hissed.

Patton gave Virgil a cheerful wave and continued walking, keeping his pace steady. On the first few steps Janus tensed, shrinking backwards, but he soon stopped, eyeing Patton warily.

"Our friends got taken," Patton continued, "and I'm going to go rescue them. But I don't really, well, know what I'm doing. At all. So…I figured I could ask you for help! You're a dragon, and I'm assuming those dragons are your family? You can help us, and—" An idea came to Patton. "We can help you get back to your family! I bet you miss them, and I bet they miss you. So we can find a good place for you to take off after you help! Would that make you feel better?"

Janus growled one more time and flapped his wings.

Then they shrank into his body, his tail whipped into thin air, the spines and ridges flattened, and Janus stood there, bandages still on his face, arms folded.

"You don't know a thing about me or how I feel," Janus said mildly, "and if you speak to me in that condescending tone again, I will rip your throat out."

"Oh." Patton's relief faltered slightly. "Oh! Okay! Glad you, um, changed back to human! That's really helpful and will probably lead to less town-wide freaking out!"

"It was mainly to insult you," Janus explained. "Also to leave this town by foot, since apparently you humans build all your houses too close together."

"Sorry, we didn't really plan on, y'know, dragons needing to take off." Patton shifted. "So…will you help?"

Janus stared at him. "I have absolutely nothing to gain from helping you. I can get to the dragons on my own and you're mounting an attack against my people. Why on earth would I help?"

"Because it's…it would be really nice of you?"

Janus sighed so deeply that flames licked the edges of his mouth before curling and disappearing into the air with a hiss.

Roman and Virgil approached on either side of Patton, flanking him. Patton really wished they wouldn't, it made them seem too confrontational for his tastes.

"You're not really in a position to bargain," Virgil pointed out.

"Hey!" Patton complained. "No threatening!"

"Well, clearly being nice to him isn't working!" Virgil shrugged. "Take it from a jerk: we'll only do stuff if we're forced to."

"Kiddo, don't talk bad about yourself! And Janus may be a jerk—sorry, Janus—but that doesn't mean we can't treat him with respect!"

"He can't fly."

Patton and Virgil both turned to look at Roman. "What?" Patton asked.

"You could have left," Roman said, staring at Janus. "You weren't supposed to be on the ground with us at all, were you? You could have flown away and you didn't. You can't fly, can you? At least, not very far."

"I _can_ fly," Janus snarled.

"Are you hurt?" Patton tried to inspect him. "Injuries carry over, right? Is it an arm injury? Wait, what corresponds to your wings? Is it—"

"I can fly!" Janus snapped. "It's none of your business!"

"Sure," Virgil said, "you being really defensive about it definitely doesn't lead to the other conclusion."

"If you say so. You can fly," Patton agreed. "But, hypothetically. If you couldn't. Would you appreciate…coming with me? I could use your help on the journey and you could use a way back to your family. We could work together!"

Janus stared at him, eyes narrowed. "I am not desperate enough to spend any extended amount of time with _you_."

Patton shrugged. "Your loss! I'm just trying to help!"

"I'm coming too," Virgil added. "Don't know if that'll change your mind, but best to be honest about everything."

"Wait." Patton frowned. "Who said you were coming?"

"Hey, yeah!" Roman rounded on Virgil. "We did _not_ agree on that!"

"What, you think I'm just gonna let Pat go alone?" Virgil asked. "I'm coming to help! He'll be in danger!"

"I won't be alone," Patton said. "I'll have Janus."

Virgil glanced at Janus with distaste. "Like I said, you'll be in danger."

"Rude," Janus said, inspecting his fingernails.

"I'm going," Virgil continued. "I want to protect you. You don't know how to fight, I do. I have a crossbow."

"You'll get hurt!" Patton protested.

"And if I don't go, you'll get hurt." Virgil crossed his arms. "Prove me wrong."

A million arguments bubbled up, crowding on the edge of Patton's tongue. They all boiled down to _no_. Virgil wasn't supposed to be in danger. He wasn't _supposed_ to risk everything for Patton. _Patton_ was the one that helped! He didn't _need_ help! Virgil was going to get himself hurt!

But…but Virgil wanted to. And it was Virgil's choice.

And maybe, just maybe, Patton wanted Virgil by his side.

"Okay." Patton stared at the ground and ignored the guilty feeling in his chest. "Okay. You can come if you want."

"Wait, really?" Virgil gave a half-delirious laugh. "That was easier than I thought."

"Wait," Roman said, frowning. "How come he gets to go and I don't? If Virgil's going, then I'm coming too."

"Okay, that's where I draw the line." Patton poked a finger at Roman. "You are _injured_. You need to go home and _rest_."

"I'll be fine, I—"

"Do you want your parents to lose another son?"

Roman froze.

"Do you want that?" Patton repeated softly. "I don't think doing that to them would be a very nice thing, Ro."

Roman opened his mouth to respond and closed it again, sinking and rubbing his eyes. "I. I guess not."

"Right," Patton said firmly, giving Roman a bracing smile. "We'll be okay on our own, Roman. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Roman teased.

"Who says I can't keep it?" Patton laughed. "Watch me, Roman."

"Alright then." Roman reached out and ruffled Patton's hair. "Never underestimate your amazingness. Got it."

"You should go home," Patton said, taking Roman's hand and gently shoving it away. "Your parents will want to see you."

"I guess," Roman said, glancing at Janus. "Shame to miss all the action, though."

"You're injured."

"Fine." Roman gave Patton a smile. "Stay safe, Patton. And…thank you. I can't even begin to say how much this means to me."

Patton beamed, feeling happiness spark inside of him. Definitely worth it.

"I'll take care of him, don't worry." Virgil stepped forward and gave Roman a quick, one-armed hug. "Hang in there, Princey."

"Will do."

Patton waved goodbye, and Roman took the hint. He walked down the road towards his house, turning back every few seconds and waving again. Finally he turned the corner and was out of sight. Patton almost sunk to the ground in relief. He'd been petrified Roman would make a last-ditch attempt to throw himself into the line of fire. Thankfully, the crisis was averted.

"Um, pardon me." Janus looked between Patton and Virgil. "This is very heartwarming and all, but I've been standing here for the past minute or so and I'm getting quite bored. Am I still relevant or can I leave?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Patton turned to him, smiling. "We were just figuring out our party. Now that Virgil's along for the ride, officially, we can keep going! If you come with us, it'll be a nice threesome! All three of us together! Like buddies! Three's a nice number, don't you think? Not a crowd at all! The Rule of Three says we'll kick more butt if there's three of us."

Janus glanced at Virgil. "Is he always this bad at negotiating?"

"Janus." Patton stepped forward, holding out a hand. "I need your help. We need your help. And we can help you in return. You seem…alright. If somewhat mean. And I know you hurt Roman and I'm still very mad at you for that, and I know I hurt you and you're probably mad at me for that burn, which is fair, but—"

"Hold on. Time out." Janus' eyes hardened. "You did what?"

Fiddlesticks.

He didn't actually remember.

And of course, of _course_ he phrased it as a question, so Patton would have to answer.

"I…um…" Patton waved a hand at the side of Janus' face and waited for death. "I did that?"

"Alright." Janus' jaw was clenched. "Glad we got that cleared up. Continue."

"Oh!" Patton tried not to look too relieved. "I don't have much else to say, really. Just that we'll get you to your family, and that we promise not to hurt you or any of the other dragons! We just want our friends back and we'll be on our way."

"Mhm." Janus nodded slowly. "Because I can absolutely trust your word, Patton Foster."

"You remembered my name?"

"You're a memorable person."

Patton was pretty sure that was some sort of layered insult, but still, awesome! "You can trust me! I can't lie, so you're safe!"

Janus frowned. "What do you mean, you 'can't lie?'"

"I'm part Fae," Patton explained, "so it's physically impossible for me to lie."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Janus gave him a searching look. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen years and eight months!"

"I'm fifteen," Virgil added.

"What's your mom's maiden name?"

"Tanaka. And she kept it."

"What's your most embarrassing moment?"

Patton flushed but couldn't stop the words tumbling from his mouth. "I peed my pants in my elementary school chorus concert?"

Janus snickered. "Second most embarrassing moment?"

" _I-got-stuck-in-a-tree-trunk-once_ and that's beside the point!" Patton ignored Virgil's laughter. "Do you believe me now?"

"Patton Foster." Janus savored each syllable. "Do you, now or in the future, have any intentions of harming me or any dragon we encounter?"

"No," Patton responded. "I don't like hurting things."

"Hmm." Janus paused, his eyes moving as he concentrated. "I'll come."

"Wait, really?" Patton squealed. "That's fantastic!"

"Wait. Really?" Virgil grimaced. "Oh no."

"Thank you so much! You won't regret this!" Patton jumped forward for a celebratory hug. Janus grabbed his shirt and shoved him away.

"Okay, no hugs! Cool!" Patton's excitement barely dimmed. "Oh, I'm so glad! This is going to be amazing."

"I have to be with him." Virgil's voice was blank. "For an extended period of time."

"We'll all be such good friends!" Patton continued. "Come on, Virgil, this is good news! Turn that frown of yours upside down!"

Virgil did not.

"What now?" Janus asked, eyes flicking to the sky. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," Patton decided. "We'll all need to get some rest tonight."

"Good idea, I'll just hop into my luxury queen bed." Janus deadpanned. "Oh wait, I have no place to sleep."

"Right!" Patton giggled sheepishly. "Sorry. Um—do you want to come stay at my house? Just for the night?"

Virgil made a strangled noise which Patton ignored.

"Your house," Janus repeated, eyebrows high in the air.

"Yeah!" Patton exclaimed. "It's right over that way! You can sleep there for tonight and we can leave tomorrow!"

"Are you—" Virgil seemed to be carefully keeping his voice level. "Are you sure about this, Patton? Will the moms like it?"

"I don't know," Patton said, wincing. "I kind of forgot about them."

Patton's moms definitely wouldn't like it, would they? They didn't like dragons and they'd think Patton was in danger or something. Plus they'd ask why Janus was here, so Patton would have to tell them he was leaving, and they would probably stop him. He'd been planning on sneaking out the back door in the morning and leaving a note. Sneaky and underhanded? Yes. But it was for a good cause. Mostly.

"We'll just, um." Patton grinned, trying to hide his nervousness. "Maybe-kinda-sorta sneak Janus into the house so they don't see him?"

"I thought you couldn't lie," Janus said.

"I can't!" Patton agreed. "But, like, if they haven't technically _asked_ me whether I'm bringing a dragon into my room, then I'm not _technically_ lying by not telling them! Right?"

Janus tilted his head. "You _are_ aware of how incredibly morally gray that sounds, right?"

Patton flushed and stared at his feet.

"Don't worry," Janus said, smirking, "I approve."

"Somehow," Patton said, "that doesn't make me feel better."

"Are we doing this?" Virgil asked. "Or can he sleep in a garden or something?"

"No!" Patton folded his arms. "He's my friend now—"

"I am not your friend."

"He's my friend even though he won't admit it, which means he needs a place to stay!" Patton looked Janus over. "His clothes are all torn up and his bandages probably need to be changed soon. Plus I bet he's hungry!"

Janus hissed between his teeth, eyes glinting. "Is this a trap?"

"Nope!"

Janus sighed, rubbing at his temple. "Fine. We will go to your house."

"Yay!" Patton turned to Virgil, activating the Puppy Dog Eyes and clasping his hands. "Will you help us, kiddo? Pwease?"

Virgil gave a long sigh. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's sneak a dragon into our house."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Patton continues his slow slide into villainy. next: he jaywalks and takes two cookies when he was supposed to take one


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more fantasy racism, food mentions and eating, dehydration

It was easier than Patton expected. Maybe he was getting better at committing crimes and being a sneaky snakey? He hoped not. Getting better at crimes meant he was getting used to crimes, and getting used to crimes meant he was a serious criminal.

But it was easy. Virgil headed off the moms, since he could lie without his stomach trying to stab him, and Patton shepherded Janus through the back door and up the stairs. Despite a tense moment when Janus stepped on the squeaky stair and it made a loud incriminating squeak, they made it upstairs.

Patton took Janus into his room, letting him sit on the bed. Janus sat ramrod straight, yellow eyes darting around the room, hands curled around the edge. When he saw Patton's stuffed animals and froggy rug he seemed to relax a little bit. Maybe he figured that people with stuffed animals rarely killed people. Patton wasn't sure if that was accurate, but if it got Janus to calm down, he didn't mind.

"Would you like one?" Patton asked, sitting on the chair. "They always calm me down when I'm—when things aren't nice."

Janus gave him a long stare.

"So that's a no? Alright." Patton shifted, staring at his lap. "Um, how's your face?"

"Better," Janus said, voice clipped.

"I—I thought you knew," Patton said, stumbling over his words. "I didn't mean to keep it from you, I thought you remembered, I should have known you might not have seen me clearly—"

"It's fine," Janus snapped, cutting through Patton's stammering.

"Um, okay." Patton risked a glance upwards. "Do the bandages need changing? I can help if—"

Janus stared him dead in the eyes and peeled off the bandages, revealing the burnt skin underneath. It wasn't all red and rotten anymore, but still puffy and peeling. Patton repressed a shudder. Janus seemed to sense his uncomfortable feelings about it, though, since he quickly brushed his hair over the side of his face to cover the burn. It fell neatly over his eye and cheek, hiding half of his face from view.

"Alrighty then," Patton said cheerfully. "Let me know if you need anything else, then!"

There was a rustle at the door and Virgil entered, running his fingers through his bangs. "They're good. Don't suspect anything. We'll have to get up early, though, if we want to get ready and go before they're awake."

"Awesome!" Patton smiled. "Thanks so much, Virgil! You're the best!"

Virgil flushed slightly, pulling at his sleeves and looking away. "Whatever."

"Seriously!" Patton jumped to his feet. "Okay, then, we've got an early morning ahead of us, so we'd better get to bed! Who's sleeping where?"

Virgil gave Janus a suspicious look. "I'm not sleeping with him watching me."

"Fine by me," Janus said, stretching his back. "I can sleep alone."

"Wait, never mind." Virgil's look grew even more suspicious. "I'm not letting you sleep alone, either. You could, like, signal your clan or something."

"We're not called clans, and I have no way of doing that."

"Yeah, I completely trust the word of someone who _raided my town_."

"Guys!" Patton held out his hands. "Come on. No fighting. Why doesn't Janus sleep in here, and Virgil, I'll sleep in your room? If that's okay? Janus says he would like the privacy, and we want to respect his boundaries, and I'm sure he's not signaling any dragons, okay?"

Virgil frowned. "Can we talk outside for a second?"

"Sure!" Patton glanced at Janus. "You'll be okay for a sec while we talk?"

"Oh, look, you're already leaving me alone. I guess this is my chance to signal my _clan_." Janus leaned back, smirking. "Oops, I forgot, I'm not supposed to tell you about my super-secret dragon powers that _totally_ exist."

Virgil hissed at him and seemed about to start another fight. Patton firmly grabbed his hand and walked him out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Virgil let go of Patton's hand and leaned against the hallway wall, shoes scuffing up the floorboards. They were dusty, Patton noticed. Was that his job? It was probably his job. He should do that—no, wait, he couldn't, because he was going on a rescue mission.

Was it selfish to leave Mom and Mama alone? No one to help them with chores for days? And what if something really _did_ go wrong? What if Patton and Virgil never came back?

No. No, they would. It was just a few days. It would be fine.

"Patton?" Virgil asked. "Everything alright? You kind of zoned out there."

Patton jumped and quickly pasted a smile on his face. "Of course, kiddo! What did you want to talk about?"

"What do you think?" Virgil asked, jabbing a thumb at the closed door. "You know me by now, you know I'm going to have some concerns."

"I understand," Patton said. "Really, I do. If things were different, I wouldn't even consider it. But desperate times, desperate measures."

"You're sabotaging this mission," Virgil argued. "You can't trust him, Patton. You're jeopardizing your own safety and our ability to actually get to Logan and Remus."

"I can trust him!" Patton ignored the ugly taste of the half-lie on his tongue. "There's good in everyone, Virgil."

"He hurt Roman!"

"I know!" Patton sighed. "I know, Virgil. And I hurt him back. I know he's evil. I know, but we need his help."

"He's not going to help us." Virgil growled. "He's _going_ to betray us."

"We don't know that—"

"We do." Virgil pointed at Patton. "He only agreed when he found out that _you_ were the one who burned him. This is revenge. He'll get what he wants from us—a way back to Dragon Mountain—and double-cross us as soon as he's there."

Patton opened his mouth to argue and shut it again. Virgil made a very good point.

"You know I'm right." Virgil sighed, the fight going out of his eyes. "Look, I trust your judgement, Pat. I'd follow you anywhere. Just—I don't like this. I really don't."

"Me neither," Patton admitted. "But we don't really have a choice."

"Yeah." Virgil gave Patton a brief smile. "I've got your back, alright?"

"Thanks." Patton smiled back. "We're going to do this, Virgil. We are."

"I sure hope so."

"I know so."

Virgil smiled a little wider. Patton always loved it when Virgil smiled. It was a hard battle sometimes, especially on days like today, but seeing the little twinkle in his eyes and the gentle curve of his smile and the crooked edge that burrowed into his cheek? It was amazing.

When they went back inside the room, and Patton started getting everything ready for Janus to sleep, he noticed that Janus was smiling too. But it wasn't a nice smile like Virgil's. It was small and smug and slippery. A fox who caught a fish.

Patton caught Virgil's pointed stare and smiled back.

Yes. Janus was probably going to betray them.

But until he actually did, Patton was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. Innocent until proven guilty. And yes, Janus was clearly evil and willing to hurt Patton's friends and definitely the type to manipulate them and get them killed. But some part of Patton—the weak, soft, selfish part—hoped against hope that Janus would prove Virgil wrong.

Patton woke up before the sun did. It wasn't hard—he barely slept all night. It was a combination of not-so-nice nightmares, anticipation over the next morning, and the uncomfortable feeling of being stuffed into a one-person bed with another person. He didn't mind sleeping curled up with Virgil, but it was still kind of crowded. So he spent most of the night wandering around downstairs, getting things sorted.

Virgil didn't seem to have problems with sleeping, if the way he snored into Patton's chest was any indication.

"Hey," Patton said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Wake-up time, sleepyhead."

Virgil shifted and muttered something like "Go away."

"You know we have to get up early." Patton squeezed Virgil's arm. "C'mon."

"It's dark," Virgil complained. "Wake me when it's light."

"That's 'cause your eyes are closed, silly."

Virgil cracked one eye open. "Nope. Still dark. Don't like it."

"Virgil." Patton tugged half the quilt off Virgil's body. Virgil curled inwards, whining in complaint. "You've gotta wake up now."

"Don't wanna."

"We have to rescue Logan and Remus."

Virgil sighed and opened his eyes, sitting up in bed. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned, his hair in an adorable bedhead.

"There we go!" Patton slid out of bed, landing on the floor and stretching. "We've got a big day ahead of us, so hurry up and get dressed!"

Virgil mumbled something incoherent and stumbled out of the bed, grabbing a shirt off the floor and replacing his pajamas with actual clothes. Patton, who had slept in his clothes, walked to the dresser and started organizing all the food and supplies he'd snuck from the kitchen last night. It had been easy. No one else in the house was awake because they couldn't stop dreaming about fire and burns, so he'd just walked in and out again.

Patton tied up the three main knapsacks, swinging one onto his back. "Great! Let's get Janus, and then we'll—"

"You called?"

Patton squeaked and turned to see Janus leaning on the doorframe. He wasn't wearing the same dirty, too-small clothes as before. Instead, he was wearing a dark pants and a yellow button-down shirt unbuttoned to reveal a black t-shirt. His dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a good portion still hanging over his face and covering the burn. He even looked cleaner than before—had he washed himself? His hair was straight and glossy with no tangles.

"Wait." Virgil frowned. "That's my shirt!"

"It is?" Janus shrugged. "Well, I wear it better than you, so I'm keeping it."

"Hey!"

"You're not using the shirt, it's fine." Patton looked Janus over. "You look great!"

Janus looked disconcerted. "I was just going to use the black clothes, since I didn't want to attract attention, but I found this shirt in your mom's closet and it spoke to me."

"Yeah, I can see that!" Patton gasped. "Oh, I have an idea! Give me a second!"

He dashed into his room and opened his big trunk of clothes. Quickly, he grabbed a knitted yellow hat and ran back into Virgil's room. "Here!"

Janus stared at it. "A hat?"

"It's a beanie! I knitted it last year!" Patton held it out. "Try it on!"

Janus slowly took the hat as if afraid it would bite him. He pulled it on over his hair. It was a little loose around the top but fit pretty well. The yellow worked well with his shirt, and the brown hair accented it.

"I knew it would look good!" Patton clapped. "It brings out your eyes!"

Janus looked helplessly at Virgil. "Does he do this often?"

"You're stuck with that hat," Virgil said, not looking very sorry. "It'll crush him if you ever take it off."

Janus looked even more alarmed.

"It's fine if you don't like it! Really!" Patton held up his hands. "It was just my idea, I think you look cute in it but you don't have to wear it, it's not a big deal—"

"It's…" Janus patted the hat. "It's a hat."

"Yep?"

"Well, I suppose it could be worse." Janus sighed. "Are we leaving or not?"

"I finished packing our bags!" Patton ran over and grabbed Virgil and Janus' bags, tossing Virgil his and handing Janus his. "These have food and some basic stuff, if you need anything else get it now!"

Virgil reached under his bed and pulled out his crossbow. "This."

"Gotcha," Patton said, trying not to see the way Janus' shoulders tensed. "Anything else?"

"I'm good."

"Great!" Patton walked down the door and down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible. "Now, we don't want to wake them up, so—"

Immediately his foot slipped on the floor and he plummeted to the ground.

Two arms caught him, setting him back on his feet.

"Oh!" Patton smiled. "Thanks, Virgil!"

"No problem." Virgil gave Patton finger guns. "Just try not to give us away before we're even downstairs."

"Gotcha." Patton grabbed Virgil's hand and used it to keep himself steady. He couldn't mess this up for them. It was not the time to be ridiculously clumsy.

The shop downstairs was quiet. Patton slipped behind the counter and placed a small note on the top. He knew his moms would see it as soon as they came downstairs—they always noticed if anything was out of place. The note was simple.

_V and me are going to Dragon Mountain to rescue L and R. Be back soon. Don't worry, we'll be okay. Love, Patton_

Patton took one last long look around the shop, breathing in the smell of wood, hay, and spices. The smell of smoke still lingered underneath everything. The floors were polished, the shelves dusted, and the racks of wares hung perfectly placed on their hooks. Patton had spent half the night cleaning everything up, as a small apology for leaving the moms behind to handle everything on their own.

"We're really doing this," Virgil said, staring at the door. "We're actually doing this."

"Now, kiddo, if you want to change your mind, that's perfectly okay." Patton walked back around the counter. "I won't think less of you if you decide to stay behind."

Virgil snorted. "And leave you alone with _him?_ "

"Uncalled for," Janus said, running his hands over a skein of rope.

"I'm coming with, Pat." Virgil hefted his crossbow and smiled. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Alright." Patton patted his knapsack. "Are we all ready?"

Janus nodded. Virgil gave Patton a thumbs up.

Patton walked over to the shop door and pushed it open. He hopped down the steps, letting Virgil and Janus go in front before locking the door again. He smiled at the Foster's Foods sign and ignored the guilt that spiked in his stomach when he glanced at his moms' window. They'd be alright. It would only be a few days, and Patton would be back with Logan and Remus!

It was still dark outside, only the barest hint of sun licking at the horizon. A few windows were already lit, throwing squares of yellow onto the cobblestone road. A nearby lantern flickered in the brisk morning wind. The usual midday heat was gone, replaced by a crisp chill. It was eerie and silent, almost unreal. Patton felt simultaneously sleepy and more awake than he'd ever been.

"Which way?" Virgil whispered. Patton knew why. It seemed a terrible thing to break the silence hanging around them, like tossing a rock into the glassy surface of a lake.

"East," Janus said. Apparently he didn't feel the same about whispering, because his voice rung out against the buildings.

"Turn left, then." Patton looked for an opening. "There."

They turned left, slipping between houses and heading out of town. The buildings around them slowly grew smaller, from two-story rowhomes to smaller wooden frames. The neat cobblestones became farther and farther between until the road was just dirt with little stones poking up like islands. Patton passed a small apple orchard, the trees not yet bearing fruit but still beautiful in the early morning light.

Finally the buildings stopped altogether. Beyond them, the road spun out in a straight line, fields gleaming in bright green and corn yellow on either side. The sun peeked over the edge, sending pink and gold clouds cartwheeling through the air. The horizon was even and bold, drawn with a ruler, and the road never dipped or wavered. It simply continued until it disappeared into a small dot in the distance.

The morning chill was fading now. Patton felt the sun warm him up inside, climbing higher into the sky, sliver by molten sliver. He smiled.

"We have to walk into the sun?" Virgil complained, breaking the spell. "Just stare into it all morning? I'll go blind by breakfast."

"It's beautiful," Patton chided, gesturing at the orange splashes by the horizon and the gilded edges of the clouds.

"It won't be beautiful for long." Virgil's mouth twitched and Patton knew he was just teasing. "Soon it'll just be a monstrous ball of fire burning up our retinas."

Janus pushed past them and began walking down the road. "Are we going or not?"

And maybe Patton did spend an extra second admiring the way the golden light glimmered on Janus' skin, and maybe Virgil did have to shove him to get him to start moving and stop staring, but it was only because he was admiring the sunrise as a whole.

At first it was fun. Almost like a little adventure out of town! Patton skipped along the road, counting ears of corn and glancing behind him to see the town fall away in the distance. He'd been outside of town before, but not since the raid. He could see the burned skeletons of buildings rising into the sky, twisted and blackened and crumbling. The sunrise couldn't make them beautiful.

Patton tried not to look back too much.

The sun rose in the sky. The pretty colors burned away and were replaced by a brilliant blue. Already, heat shimmered between the corn leaves and hung from Patton's clothes. He could tell it would be a hot day and no fun to suffer through. There were no trees for shade, just endless fields.

How far away were the Iron Woods, anyway? Did they even exist? Patton squinted into the sun, but he couldn't see anything except fields and really bright sun that he regretted looking at.

Janus led the way. Patton walked behind him. Virgil brought up the rear. They could very well walk next to each other—the road was large enough for carts and buggies, after all—but for some reason Patton couldn't find the heart to slow down or speed up. None of them tried for conversation.

Patton's stomach began to ache when the sun was halfway to the top of the sky. He didn't want to complain, but he was getting really hungry and the sun was making his head spin and his mouth was dry and cracked. Maybe he could try and eat without making the others stop? He grabbed at his knapsack and tried to open it clandestinely, but apparently he was clan- _destined_ to fail, because Virgil immediately noticed.

"What are you doing?" Virgil asked.

"Eating," Patton forced out through gritted teeth. Stupid Fae blood.

"Eating?" Virgil repeated, and Patton could hear the confusion and guilt in his tone, and now Virgil would stop and let Patton eat out of kindness, because Virgil was that sort of person. Stupid Fae blood!

"Eating," Janus muttered. Then he hissed. "Right! Humans eat all the time, don't they?"

"Not all the time," Virgil countered. "Just three times a day. When do _you_ eat?"

"Once a month."

"What?" Virgil darted forward and snatched Janus' knapsack. "Then I'm taking your food."

"Virgil!" Patton chided. "If Janus wants the food, he can have it. Don't steal it without asking."

"Fine." Virgil folded his arms. Patton realized they'd all stopped in the middle of the road. "Janus, would you be so kind as to give me all your food?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely…" Janus smirked. "No. Eat your own food."

"But you don't even _need_ it!"

"But _you_ want it, and based on the iron-clad rules of spite, I'm not giving it to you."

"Patton!" Virgil said, rounding on Patton. "Back me up here!"

Patton, who was trying to shove bread into his mouth without being spotted, squeaked and almost dropped his knapsack. "Um—" He swallowed. "I think it's irrevalent right now, because Virgil still has food of his own."

Janus frowned. "You mean irrelevant?"

Patton waved a hand vaguely, biting into an apple slice.

Virgil grumbled something about bias and opened his own knapsack, extracting an apple with a note attached. "Patton, did you write me motivational notes in my pack?"

"…Maybe?"

"You light up my life," Virgil read aloud, staring at the note with confusion. "I do?"

"Of course you do!" Patton exclaimed. "We're best friends, Virgil!"

"Oh." Virgil pressed his lips together. "Um. Right. Thanks."

"Wait, mine are all instructions." Janus held a pile of notes in his hand. "Not compliments. 'Try to be nice.' 'Listen to others before speaking.' 'Always follow your heart, unless your heart is wrong.' Patton, what on earth…"

"I was tired!" Patton protested. "And it's good advice! I think, y'know, you could change if you let yourself."

"You're trying to reform me," Janus said slowly, "with motivational lunch notes."

Virgil looked between them. "Patton, when did you do all this? Did you get _any_ sleep last night?"

"Of course I did!" Patton tried to say. Instead, he said, "Not really."

"No?" Virgil asked, his eyebrows pinched together in concern.

Not a direct question! Thank goodness!

"I…I was just so excited," Patton explained, ignoring the way the half-truth burned his tongue. "I couldn't sleep."

"Well, as long as you don't crash to the ground as we walk," Virgil said. "Let us know if you need to rest, okay?"

"Sure, kiddo!" Patton lied, knowing full well he wouldn't. He'd just slow them down by resting, and they needed to get to Logan and Remus!

"Are we done?" Janus asked. "I appreciate your need for food and all, but somehow standing still is even warmer than walking."

"I feel you, I think my blood's evaporated." Virgil swatted weakly at the sun. "I'm really considering the benefits of being nocturnal."

Patton shielded his eyes with his hand and stared down the road. It was still unbending, still leading to nothing at all.

"You know," Patton said slowly, "Janus, maybe it would be faster if we, um, rode on you?"

Janus froze. "What?"

"He can't fly, remember?" Virgil smirked as Janus' face flushed a deep red. "Oh, right, he _can_ fly. My apologies."

"He doesn't have to fly," Patton said, looking Janus over. "I dunno, maybe we could ride on his back or something? Then you wouldn't have to walk so much, Virgil."

"And make me do all the work instead?" Janus drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Wow, Patton, talk about selfish."

Patton tried not to wince.

"It's a moot point anyway," Virgil said, repacking his knapsack and swinging it onto his back. "I'm not stepping near that guy in dragon form. No way, no how."

"Oh." Patton nodded. "Yeah, I get that. Sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine." Virgil raised a hand. "We moving or not?"

Janus was already striding past the fields, yellow shirt shining brighter than the sun. He looked almost ethereal with his dark hair fluttering around his shoulders and his shoes stepping lightly on the dirt. Patton followed, not looking at all ethereal, with his poofy blonde hair barely tamed by three or four barettes, wearing his favorite overalls and a blue stripy shirt, glasses balanced on his nose. Virgil came last, bangs falling over his eyes, slouching in a dark oversized jacket and old shoes. They made quite the team, spaced evenly along the dirt road, walking towards the dragons.

The sun slid across the sky. The winds picked up and died down, a few clouds scudding aimlessly across the porcelain blue sky. The cornfields bent and twisted in the wind, yellow-gold oceans on either side. Patton tried to focus on all those beautiful things and not the way his feet already hurt. He was going to get blisters soon, he just knew it. And sweat dripped down the back of his neck, and although he was trying not to waste water, he could hardly resist the siren song of his canteen.

"I Spy?" Patton asked, hoping to find a distraction.

"I Spy, with my little eye," Janus said, "someone who does not want to play I Spy. I wonder who it could be."

Behind Patton, Virgil covered his mouth to hide his laughter.

"Oh, look!" Patton said, clapping his hands and ignoring the hurt of being insulted. "You're getting along already!"

Virgil hissed loudly at Janus. Janus hissed back. And that was the end of their only conversation.

It must have been mid-afternoon by the time Virgil stumbled. Patton paused and ran over, looking him up and down. Virgil was sweating and his hands were clammy.

"Sorry," Virgil said. "I—can we stop? For a second?"

"Of course." Patton sat down on the road and Virgil followed. Janus kept walking.

"Janus?" Patton asked. "Virgil's resting."

"Good for him," Janus said. "Catch up when you can."

Patton watched helplessly as Janus strode down the road, not looking back. Virgil muttered a very rude word under his breath.

"Nothing we can do about it now," Patton said, handing Virgil his canteen. "Drink up, you're probably halfway to heatstroke."

Virgil looked at the canteen with confusion. "You know I have my own water, right?"

"Do you?" Patton grabbed Virgil's canteen and popped open the top. There was only a small skein of water on the bottom. "Knew it."

Virgil flushed. "Sorry, I—"

"Don't apologize, kiddo! It's okay. You need to drink." Patton pushed his own canteen closer to Virgil. "Go ahead. I still have plenty."

Virgil took a few small sips, clearly trying to save water. Patton watched him with concern. His eyes were somewhat hazy and a blush covered his cheeks that Patton didn't think was from embarrassment.

"You shouldn't be walking in the sun so much," Patton said, tutting. "This isn't working."

"What else can we do?" Virgil wiped his mouth and handed the canteen back.

"I know you're uncomfortable with it," Patton said slowly, "but we could at least have him shield you from the sun, or—"

"No." Virgil's voice was firm. "I'm sorry, Pat, but no."

"He won't hurt us." Patton glanced at the small figure far down the road. "He still needs our help."

"What's stopping him from walking there alone?"

Patton paused. "Well, he could want to kidnap us, so he'd have to wait until we reached the mountain. And if the rumors of the Iron Woods are true…he'll probably want backup. I know I do."

Virgil watched Janus with an unreadable expression. "I don't trust him, Pat."

"Me neither." Patton smiled a little bit. "But I kinda like him. And as long as he doesn't betray us until we're through the Iron Woods, I'll count that as a win."

"Whatever you say." Virgil pulled himself to his feet, swaying a little. "Let's go."

"You're sure you'll be alright?" Patton asked, standing up as well.

"Yeah." Virgil glanced at the sun behind them. "It'll be nightfall in a few hours. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Patton said hesitantly. "Just let me know if you need to take a break, okay?"

Virgil nodded and started walking again. Patton followed a step behind him, ready to catch Virgil if he stumbled. Far away, tattooed against the aching blue sky, Janus was walking between the fields. Patton wondered if they could call for him and get him to slow down or stop—they'd want to stick together, wouldn't they? And Virgil was in no condition to try to run and catch up.

"Janus!" Patton yelled.

Janus didn't turn around. Maybe he just didn't hear Patton, or maybe he was ignoring him.

"Janus!" Patton repeated, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Please slow down!"

Virgil shook his head. "He can't hear."

"Well, what do we do?" Patton tried to run forward, but his feet ached. "We need to catch up!"

There was a glint in Virgil's eye. "I have an idea."

"Virgil?" Patton frowned. "It better not include maiming."

"It doesn't," Virgil said, hefting his crossbow. "At least, as long as I aim right."

"What—"

Virgil ran forward, primed the crossbow, and let a bolt fly. It whizzed towards Janus and jabbed into the road behind him with a thunk. Janus froze and turned around.

"Hey!" Virgil yelled, waving his hand. "Get over here!"

Patton could almost hear Janus' sigh. He knelt down and picked up the bolt before strolling back to them.

"You dropped this," Janus said, tossing the bolt at Virgil. Virgil caught it easily and slipped it into his pouch.

"There you are!" Patton tried not to sound too annoyed. "Please don't leave us behind again, okay? It's best if we stick together."

"Why?" Janus asked. "We're all going to the same place and there's no danger lurking in cornfields."

"I dunno." Patton glanced around. There was a small scarecrow in a field nearby, bedazzled with crows. A farmhouse was off in the distance. But no houses or farms were near this road. There weren't even any signs. They'd walked all day and seen no one else. This was the road to the Iron Woods, and nobody ever wanted to go there.

"I just…" Patton waved his hands and tried to explain the nervous chill he felt, even on a such sunbaked day. "Just in case, okay? I'd rather play it safe than have to run every time we need your attention."

"Fine," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "But no talking."

"Okay."

So they continued to walk in silence. Patton ignored his own discomfort and checked on Virgil periodically, handing him the canteen. Janus' canteen still sloshed, completely full, but Patton wasn't selfish enough to take some of Janus' water. Not yet, anyway. Maybe if Virgil really needed it.

The sun sank lower in the sky, painfully slow but still persistent. The cornfields were replaced with soygum. Once in a while, Patton saw a barn or a windmill in the distance. The soygum was replaced with rice. The rice was replaced with pasture, and Patton spotted sheep and horses—Virgil had to stop him from running over to say hello.

The road twisted once, just a bit. The sun came closer and closer to brushing the horizon. Janus, for the first time, took a sip of water. Virgil's bangs were damp with sweat and Patton was regretting wearing his overalls.

"Look," Janus said as the sun scraped the edge of the earth behind them, and the clouds started to grow little pink linings. "We can see it."

Patton squinted. Above the neat green grass, along the horizon, was a thick dark line. Beyond that? The peak of a mountain.

"No way," Virgil whispered.

"It's so far!" Patton burst out. "We'll never get there before nightfall."

"It's not as far as it looks," Janus said. "…Still quite far, though. We'll have to stop and sleep somewhere for the night."

"Like, on the road?" Virgil frowned. "Do we even have blankets?"

"We have sleeping bags!" Patton stopped and pulled out three burlap sacks. "Kind of sort of!"

"Wonderful," Janus said. "Although that sounds very comfortable and pleasant, I think we should try and find an alternate place to sleep."

"Where?" Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't see anything nearby."

"There have to be people that own these fields, right?" Patton motioned to the side of the road. "We should just find one of them!"

"I mean, I guess…" Virgil's hand drifted to his crossbow. "Don't feel great about walking up to random strangers."

"I brought money!" Patton said, opening his knapsack and drawing out a few coins. "We can pay for it!"

"I'm not as well-versed in human etiquette as you are." Janus shrugged. "If you say that is a reasonable request, I am inclined to believe you."

"Yeah, but what if they hate us?" Virgil's irritation was clearly giving way to fear. "What if they try to kill us or something? What if—"

"It'll be fine." Patton reached out and took Virgil's hand. "I promise."

Virgil mumbled something about not liking this and that Patton couldn't convince him by being adorable and supportive. But he started walking again, and Patton followed. Janus scanned the sides of the road.

"There," he said, pointing. A small path was sliced through the cornfield, the bottom made of pressed grasses. Ears of corn dangled on either side.

"Alright," Virgil said, warily stepping off the road, like he expected something to jump out and scare him. The leaves rustled slightly. Virgil breathed a sigh of relief.

As soon as Patton stepped off the road, he ran ahead of Virgil, sticking out an arm and letting his hand brush the stalks. He couldn't help it! He'd been staring at the same road all day, and this path was all twisty and mysterious, with shadows in the corners, and the sweet smell of fresh dirt, and corn that stretched above Patton's head. Not that being taller than Patton was a great achievement, but still!

Virgil chuckled as Patton spun around, breathing it in.

"We should keep moving," Janus interrupted. The harshness in his voice surprised Patton, who tried to stop spinning and only managed to stumble into an ear of corn. "Staying in one place for too long is not a good idea."

"What, do you think there are wolves or Fae a cornfield?" Virgil asked. Usually, Virgil would probably be afraid of both of those. But apparently he had taken it upon himself to counter whatever Janus said.

"Hey, we _should_ get moving!" Patton skipped down the path, letting the others follow. "Hopefully this is a direct path and not part of a maze or something!"

"Oh no." Virgil's confidence immediately disappeared. "We're going to get lost, aren't we?"

"What? No!" Patton said. "Maybe?"

"We're going to get lost." Virgil stared at the surrounding corn with horror. "We're going to get lost in here and die by the hands of some crazy axe murderer."

"No one is going to die," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "Look for yourself, we can see the road from here."

Virgil peeked behind them and relaxed slightly, but his knuckles were still white on his crossbow.

"Good! Glad that's settled!" Patton waved and continued skipping down the path. "Let's go!"

It was fun. It was, once again, very easy to pretend like things were normal when it felt like a fun adventure or caper and not a serious rescue mission. Patton enjoyed the feeling of the evening breeze, the melting colors in the sky above, the whispering rustle of the cornstalks. The sun was nearly gone and the heat had mostly vanished, leaving behind a snug warm night like a cozy blanket.

Occasionally they came across other paths, but since all the other paths were small and this one seemed to be going pretty straight, Patton ignored them. They couldn't get that lost if they didn't take any turns, after all! And Janus, the tallest, said he could see a farmhouse in the direction they were walking. So yay!

Finally the cornfield opened up. A white farmhouse with light green shutters sat in a patch of grass, candles in the windows. The evening light cast the whole front in a yellow-orange glow. It was a large house, larger than most of the houses in town, with a pointy dark roof and a little attic window. The wraparound porch had a swing and several wooden tools. A puffy tree sat near the door, and Patton spotted the small lumpy beginnings of some apples.

They'd come out near a cellar door. The actual road led up to the main door and disappeared between two fields, paved with small white stones.

"Okay then," Virgil said. "So what now?"

Patton gasped. "Look!"

There was a well near the house, made out of gray stone with a little white roof and a wooden bucket.

"What?" Janus asked.

"We can get some water!" Patton waggled his empty canteen. "We'll need some more, and I dunno if there'll be any wells in the Woods, Janus."

"Cool!" Virgil walked over to the well. "Let's go!"

"Hey, no!" Patton spluttered. "I meant ask first!"

"Why?" Virgil looked down into the well. "They've got more than enough. They won't mind."

"It's wrong!" Patton folded his arms. "We should ask to get their water."

Janus sighed. "If you want to march up to their door and ask to borrow some water, be my guest, but—"

"I will!" Patton declared. "Watch me!"

So Patton marched up to their door. He jumped up the little steps and walked onto the porch. There was a doggy asleep on the welcome mat! Cute! Careful not to disturb the pup, Patton leaned forward and knocked twice on the door.

The dog immediately woke up, jumping to its feet and starting to bark. Patton held up his hands and backed away. The doggy looked less cute and more threatening now, but maybe it was all bark and no bite.

"Hey, easy," Patton said, stepping backwards. "Good boy?"

The dog snapped at him, missing his foot by an inch.

Okay. It had bite.

Patton was considering bolting for it, although the doggy might chase after him. Then the door swung open.

"Hey! In here!" A woman with large hands and hair tied in a bun grabbed the dog's collar. "Inside! In!"

The dog barked a few more times for good measure before slinking into the house, tail between his legs. The woman leaned on the doorframe to keep him in, looking Patton up and down with piercing brown eyes.

"Hi!" Patton said, waving. "Um, nice to meet you, ma'am?"

"You freaked him out," she said instead of hello. "It'll take him ages to get calm."

"Sorry, ma'am," Patton said, trying very hard not to bounce up and down from nervousness. "Um, I'm sorry for bothering you, but I kind of, um, wanted to ask if we could have some water?"

"Some what?" The woman looked past him. "We?"

"My friends and I." Patton glanced at Virgil and Janus, who were loitering on the edge of the yard. Neither of them smiled or waved, which was sort of rude. "We'd like some water. And, um, maybe a place to stay for the night? 'Cause we're passing through, and—"

"Passing through," the woman interrupted. She said her words all flat and slow.

Patton nodded. "Um, yeah, we—"

"Where you going?"

"Oh!" Patton winced as the truth came tumbling out. "Um, the Iron Woods?"

Something flashed in the woman's eyes. "What are you?"

"Huh?" Patton was confused, but he couldn't help but answer the question honestly. "Mostly human!"

"Mostly," the woman repeated, hand clenching on the doorframe.

"Almost entirely," Patton corrected. "You don't have to let us stay, but we can pay and everything, and it would be very kind of you, ma'am."

The woman jerked her head at Virgil and Janus. "And what are they?"

"Human and dragon?" Patton's voice squeaked on the last syllable. "But I promise they won't cause any trouble?"

"Dragon."

"Yes, ma'am."

The woman's eyes were glinting like steel. "And you?"

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

Before Patton could react, she had grabbed his shoulder, pulling him closer and snatching his ear. Patton felt her fingers, callused and rough, as they rubbed the top of his ear.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ pointed ears.

"Fae," the woman said.

"O-only a little bit?"

She shoved him away from her. Patton stumbled, grabbing the porch railing to steady himself.

"I'm not letting any Fae in my house or near my water." The woman drew herself up, eyes flaming. "You'll just sour the milk and curse my children. You think I'll stand for that? No."

Patton swallowed. "M-ma'am, I can't actually do any of that—"

"Save your breath, I'm not listening." The woman stared him dead in the eyes. "Get out. Now. Or I'll sic my dogs on you."

She slammed the door so loud it made the windows rattle.

Patton quickly bolted down the stairs and away from the porch. Virgil caught him, slowing him down.

"Hold on, Pat." Virgil looked him over. "You okay?"

"I—yeah," Patton said, glancing at the door. "We—we should go. At least get out of sight."

Janus wordlessly motioned to the opening in the cornfield. Patton nodded and walked over, sighing in relief as the cool shadows covered him. She couldn't possibly see them from there.

"So," Virgil said, still looking at Patton with concern. "That was something."

"I—I'm sorry." Patton rubbed at his ear. "I should have thought that through."

"Yeah, you should have," Virgil agreed, "but that was about the worst it could possibly go. Seriously, are you okay?"

"I—" Patton couldn't force out the words 'I'm fine.' Why did a few drops of Fae blood have to ruin his life? "I—I'm sorry."

"Don't be. C'mon." Virgil glanced at the house with distaste. "She's a jerk. Wouldn't want her stupid jerk water anyway."

Patton laughed a little.

"Does this happen a lot?" Janus asked. His face was unreadable and his voice was quiet.

"Not really," Patton said. "It was kind of surprising? Maybe being so close to the Woods makes her really distrustful of magical creatures, my neighbors never had a problem with me—"

People crossing the street to avoid him. Kids at school slipping iron filings into his food. Grownups wincing when he talked. Teachers being uncomfortable when he told them he couldn't lie. A family friend saying maybe it was best if he didn't hold their newborn baby. A childhood friend saying their mom didn't want them playing with Patton anymore. Whispered conversations between his moms and other people, asking if they were "sure about this" and if it wasn't "dangerous."

He'd never connected the dots until now. But…

"Oh my gosh," Patton said, "my neighbors had a problem with me."

"I thought you knew," Virgil said, biting his lip. "I try my best to shut them up, but people stay stuff, and—"

"My neighbors had a problem with me," Patton repeated. "They didn't _like_ me. They didn't _trust_ me."

"Um, Pat?" Virgil looked concerned again. "Calm down, okay? Most people liked you a ton. You're always so nice to everyone."

Patton blinked as another piece fell into place. Hold on. Had he subconsciously known this the whole time? Was _that_ why he always felt the urge to be nice, to never make a scene, to blend into the background? Was _that_ why he spent so much time pleasing people—to fight against the negative ideas they had about him from the start?

Did that mean…did that mean he wasn't a naturally nice person at all? That all of this was just fake, so he could survive? That his selflessness was actually for a selfish reason?

"Patton?" Virgil asked.

"I'm fine!" Patton blurted out, smiling. "I'm great! Let's just, um, find a place to sleep and get some water and food, because this didn't work out."

Janus turned to look at the house, his entire face cast in shadow. "Not yet."

"What?" Virgil turned to Janus. "Um, I don't like the creepy evil vibes I'm getting from you right now."

"We need water," Janus said. "She has it."

"Hold on," Patton said, trying not to sound too apprehensive. "Um, Janus? I don't like where this is going."

"It's _water_." Janus huffed. "And she's clearly a wonderful person who I would feel terrible about robbing."

"He has a point," Virgil admitted, "but what if we get caught?"

"Stealing is wrong!" Patton put his hands on his hips. But he knew the disappointment-face wouldn't work if they couldn't see him. "We should take the high road!"

"I…" Virgil sighed. "Patton, we're almost out of water. I hate to say it, but…Janus, go ahead."

"Oh, no." Janus shook his head. "You're coming too, Virgil."

"No, I'm not!" Virgil's voice immediately pitched upwards in tone. "I'm not going near that house! Get us some water!"

"It's so kind of you, how much you care for my wellbeing."

"Guys!" Patton held up his hands. "No one is stealing any water!"

"Maybe _you_ aren't," Janus said.

"Hey, how come he gets to escape this weird spy mission and I don't?"

"Fine." Patton didn't know why he gave up on convincing them. Maybe it was because he was tired and sore and hungry and thirsty and water sounded really good. Maybe Janus' evil ways were rubbing off on him. Maybe a little bad part of him didn't mind the idea of getting back at the woman. "We'll all go."

"Wait, seriously?" Virgil's shock mingled with concern. "Pat, are you sure you're okay?"

"Wonderful." Janus' smile gleamed even in the dark. "Shall we proceed?"

Patton nodded and reached for Virgil's hand. Virgil grabbed it immediately and held it a little too tight.

"In and out," Patton heard Virgil mumbling. "We'll just go in and out. In and out."

"It will be," Patton promised. "We're just getting some water. We'll be fine."

He hoped he was right.

"In and out," Virgil repeated. "Breathe. In and out. I can do this. I can—"

Patton frowned. "Um, Janus? You sure Virgil has to do this? He seems really nervous about it."

"No, I'm coming," Virgil said, though his voice was a little strangled. "Gotta have your back—"

"You can have our back from a distance." Patton ran his thumb over the back of Virgil's hand. "Your crossbow works better when you're away from the scene anyway. Stay here and be our lookout, okay? Can you do that?"

"I'm not sure," Virgil said, although his posture betrayed his relief. "I'll try."

"Thanks! You're the bestest!" Patton slipped Virgil's canteen from his knapsack and placed it next to his own. "Jan and I will handle this, don't worry!"

Janus scoffed. "What makes you think you can get out of this, Virgil? If we're doing this, you're coming too—"

"Janus," Patton said firmly. A warning.

"I—" Janus turned away. "Fine. I suppose he'd only slow us down anyway."

Virgil yelled a very rude name at his back.

"Watch it," Janus called back, "we should keep our voices down."

"You're breaking your own rule, idiot!"

Janus raised his hands and gave Virgil double birds. Patton immediately ran forward and ushered Janus out of the cornfield and towards the well, shooting Virgil an apologetic look.

The yard was darker than before, Patton was sure of that. He tried to step as quietly as possible, but every rustle of grass under his feet was far too loud. He could hear his own rapid breathing and was positive the woman would look out the window and see him, exposed, on the lawn. Janus didn't look as terrified as Patton felt. His footsteps were absolutely silent and his eyes gleamed.

It seemed to take forever to get to the well. Patton stumbled twice and immediately steadied himself. Janus shot him a glare and Patton fought the urge to mutter an apology because even a whisper could get them caught. Maybe he sounded a little too much like Virgil. This was fine. It would be fine! It was an in-and-out little bit of _theft_. Nothing to worry about.

"Hurry," Janus whispered, snatching Patton's arm and tugging him forward. Patton did his best not to fall.

"Sorry," Patton whispered back.

Janus bristled slightly but didn't respond. Another few not-so-gentle tugs on Patton's arm and they'd reached the well. Patton wouldn't have been able to make out the shape in the dark if it hadn't been for the candlelight in the house. They were right in front of one of the larger windows. Patton cringed as the light hit him and Janus. Janus' eyes flashed with fire but he didn't back down.

Patton grabbed onto the well. The stones were slippery and cold. He reached blindly for the rope, and after fumbling with it for a few seconds, he got it clasped firmly in his fingers.

"Take the canteens," Patton whispered, pointing to them. Janus pulled them into his hands and popped open the lids.

They only needed one bucket of water. But Patton's fingers kept slipping on the rope and his arms were starting to shake from nervousness. He jerked the bucket down into the well until he heard a small splash. He froze and waited for the woman to appear at the window. Nothing happened.

"Hurry!" Janus hissed again.

Patton nodded and started to pull the bucket back up. His strokes were irregular and frantic, and the bucket started swinging from side to side, losing a bit of water in the process. Patton closed his eyes and breathed a few times, trying to steady his hands. The bucket stopped swinging. It rose up over the lip of the well, filled with clear water. The candlelight sent little ripples of fire across the surface.

"Perfect," Janus said, sighing with relief. Patton flushed at the compliment.

Janus dipped one canteen into the bucket and filled it to the top before closing it up and handing it to Patton. It was wet on the outside and it slipped from Patton's fingers, landing on the stone with a loud thump.

Patton's blood turned to ice.

"Pick it up!" Janus quickly filled the other canteen and dumped out the rest of the water from the bucket.

But the canteen had rolled off the well and into the grass. Patton scanned the ground for it, wishing that wood reflected light better. There was no sign of the canteen. Oh no, had it fallen _into_ the well? They needed that water!

There was a long, low whistle from behind them. Patton glanced over and saw Virgil, eyes wide enough to reflect the lights of the house, making frantic motions.

There was a loud slam. The sound of a door hitting the wall.

Janus hissed under his breath.

Patton was still looking for the canteen. He fell to his hands and knees, running his fingers through the dirt and grass, praying for the smoothness of wood to erupt on the ground.

Janus ducked behind the well, two inches away from Patton. "Freeze."

Patton obediently froze in place, glancing around for the canteen but keeping every muscle in his body locked.

"I know you're there," the woman called, her voice clear and heavy like a bell.

Patton tried not to breathe. Every part of him was shaking and tense. His knees had chosen this moment to go weak, and he felt sure that if he shifted just a bit, he'd collapse onto the ground with exhaustion.

Where was that _stupid_ canteen?

"Forget the canteen," Janus whispered, barely louder than the wind in the cornfields. "Run on my mark."

"I can see you." There was a series of thumps. Footsteps.

"We need it," Patton breathed.

"Ready?"

Patton gave up on staying still and stumbled to his feet, giving the ground a last, desperate glance. Everything was shadowy and his eyes were beginning to sting and his head whirled and his heartbeat was louder than the woman's voice as she said "You were warned."

A dog barked.

Patton risked a glance at the porch and saw a black shape barreling down the steps.

Canteen, canteen, that was Virgil's canteen and he needed it and—

"Run!" Janus yelled. "Now!"

The dog was bolting towards them, barking in rhythm with Patton's heartbeat.

Patton ran.

He didn't know where he was going. He'd almost forgotten where he was. He just followed Janus. Janus who was already pulling away from Patton, his legs long and his shirt flying behind him, because Patton's lungs ached and his sides seemed about to split apart and he tried to push himself to go faster but his legs weren't responding anymore. He heard the barking behind him. Was that breath on his legs? It couldn't be. Was it? Patton tried to glance behind him but it threw off his rhythm and he could barely see anything in the dark.

Virgil—where was Virgil? Where were they going? Everything burned. He wanted to just stop for a second. He couldn't stop. The woman was yelling something he couldn't hear. Not over the barking and his own strangled breaths.

Janus brushed past Virgil. Oh. There was Virgil. Virgil, who grabbed Patton's hand and tugged him along so they flew between the cornfields. The barking was still so loud. Virgil's hand almost slipped out of Patton's and Patton instinctively squeezed it, because he didn't want to get left behind, he still didn't have that canteen and he'd wasted the water—why couldn't he be as fast as Janus, who sped around corners without hesitation—wait, corners? Were they supposed to be taking corners? Patton didn't remember corners but then again, his brain was barely functioning and his lungs screamed for air. He tried to breathe deeply but it hurt so he stopped.

The barking was fading. Or was Patton just losing it in the whistle of air and the rustling of cornfields and the slap of feet against grass? He swallowed. His mouth was painfully dry. He was breathing with his mouth now but couldn't seem to stop.

Could they slow down? Patton wanted to slow down. He tried to ask but no words came out.

The barking was definitely fading.

Virgil gave Patton another tug and Patton found one last reserve of energy. He closed his eyes and let Virgil lead the way, still clutching a canteen in his other hand like his life depended on it.

Patton strained to hear the barking. Instead, he heard the hoot of an owl. The rustling of corn. His own frantic breathing and thunderous heartbeat. He wouldn't be surprise if his heart burst through his chest entirely—it seemed too big and loud to be contained.

"Stop," he heard Janus say, and he opened his eyes. Despite commanding them to stop, Janus was still running, hair flying behind him, graceful and silent.

"Stop?" Patton asked, his voice hoarse. Even the effort to speak took energy from his legs and he stumbled.

"Stop," Janus agreed, and tossed himself to the ground.

Patton didn't have the energy to slow himself down either. He followed Janus' method and simply stopped trying to hold himself upright. The ground hit his knees and bumped his elbows. He rolled over and stared up at the sky, gasping for breath, hoping the pain in his head and lungs and heart and legs would disappear.

There was a thump nearby and Virgil sunk to his knees, panting. Patton tried to wrangle his thoughts enough to check on Virgil, but he couldn't remember how to move. That was weird. He was pretty sure he'd been able to move before.

They spent a few minutes in silence. Patton kept bracing himself for barking and every time none came, he relaxed a little more. His muscles were still tight but his head had stopped spinning. He was shaking, he realized. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath that scraped the bottom of his lungs, and opened his eyes again.

There was a flash of fire and Patton could suddenly see the cornfields around them, still patterned with shadows but the light edging their leaves and outlining them. Above them was only night.

Virgil was holding a small, rusted lantern, the oil burning inside. It cast heavy shadows over his face. Patton pulled himself into a sitting position and briefly checked over Virgil and Janus. Virgil was sitting with his shoulders hunched, hands tapping at the lantern. Janus still lay on the ground, arms splayed out, his chest moving as he struggled to breathe.

"So," Janus finally said, his voice hoarse, "that definitely went as planned."

"Sorry," Patton whispered. "I know I messed up. I shouldn't have dropped the canteen."

Janus shot him a look that was unreadable in the darkness. "Yes, because she totally heard the noise from inside the house. She probably already knew we were here. It isn't your fault."

" _I'm_ sorry," Virgil said. "I should have warned you earlier, but I wasn't sure if I was seeing things or not and I didn't want to freak you guys out for no reason."

"It's all good," Patton said, struggling to smile, "but next time, maybe err on the safe side?"

"Got it," Virgil said. "Here's hoping there won't be a next time."

"Hear hear," Janus muttered, still lying on the ground.

"We got some water, though!" Patton handed Virgil the canteen. "Here you go, kiddo!"

Virgil looked at it in confusion. "Isn't this your canteen?"

"Yeah, but I dropped yours—so sorry really sorry—so I figured you'd want mine."

Virgil still looked confused. "What'll you drink?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter, I'll be fine—"

"Here." Janus sat up and reached into his knapsack, pulling out his own canteen. "Take mine. I'd rather you not die of dehydration in the middle of the Iron Woods. Dragons need less water, but if I need any, I will steal it from you, so be warned."

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Patton asked.

"I think I know more about dragons than you do." Janus waved a hand. "Don't look too far into it. You'll need to be in peak health to have a prayer of surviving the Iron Woods."

"Aww!" Patton hugged the canteen. "Thanks so much, Janus!"

Janus hissed and lay back down.

"So you're okay?" Virgil asked, looking Patton over. "Like, that was rough, Pat, I'm sorry."

"I'm a little out of breath," Patton admitted.

"I was thinking more on the feelings side of things?"

Thank goodness he didn't phrase it as a direct question. "Oh, I'm fine, kiddo! What about you, Janus? How are you?"

"Peachy," Janus snapped.

Patton frowned. "You don't sound that great."

"Well, I did just run for my life over a few canteens of water."

"You agreed to do this," Virgil reminded him. "Don't sulk."

" _You're_ telling _me_ not to sulk?"

"Shut your stupid scaly mouth." Virgil stumbled to his feet. "Let's get moving already."

"Get moving where?" Patton asked. His legs complained when he unfolded them and complained even more when he finally managed to stand up. "Which way is the road?"

"What?" Virgil shook his head. "How am I supposed to know that?"

"But you were pulling me along! I thought you knew where you were going!"

Virgil's eyes widened. "Um, no? I was following Janus?"

Together, they turned to look at Janus, who was still on the ground and had suddenly gained a huge interest in his left hand.

"Janus?" Patton said slowly. "Do you know where we are?"

Janus grimaced. "Um, a cornfield?"

"Unbelievable." Virgil threw up his hands. "Unbelievable! I trust you _one_ time, and you just lead us into some random corner of a field? For all I know we could have gone the wrong direction entirely!"

"In my defense, it was very dark!" Janus pulled himself to his feet. "Try running through a cornfield at night and see if you can get where you want to go! It all looks the same!"

"We went in a straight line to the house! You knew this! Why did you turn corners?"

"I panicked! And I didn't see you offering up any suggestions—"

"—that's because I, for some inexplicable reason, decided to trust you. But I guess that was a mistake—"

"—and you know, if you'd let me transform I probably could have solved the problem—"

"—yeah, by burning the whole place down! I can't believe I ever thought you could be different than any other dragon—"

"Guys!" Patton ran between them. "Okay, okay. Let's have some calm-down time, okay? We're all tired and upset so we're saying some things we don't mean. We can't do anything about the situation now. So let's try and get some sleep! We'll need to be well-rested for tomorrow, and when it's light out, we can figure out our next steps."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Janus hissed under his breath. "Wonderful."

"Great!" Patton unrolled his burlap sack. "Sweet dreams, guys!"

Janus and Virgil unrolled their own sacks. Virgil not-so-sneakily bumped into Janus and made him drop his sack on a spot of mud. Janus stalked down the path and flopped onto the ground, turning so his back was to Patton and Virgil. Patton traced his spine with his eyes and imagined dragon wings bursting out of his shoulders.

"Goodnight," Virgil said. "Hope the bedbugs bite, Janus."

Janus clenched his fists but didn't respond.

"Kiddo," Patton chided. "I wish you two could try and get along."

"You're kidding, right?" Virgil huffed. "I'm not gonna play nice with some jerk who thinks it's okay to attack anyone he doesn't like. I'm not like you, Pat. I'm not naïve enough to make friends with dragons."

"Naïve?" Patton whispered.

"Oh." Virgil rose himself up on his elbows, staring at Patton intently. "I didn't mean that. You're—your optimism is really, well, enviable. I wish I saw the good in people like you did. But in cases like this…I really don't see how you can find any good in a _dragon_."

"Virgil?" Janus asked, voice sharp.

"Yes?" Virgil growled.

"How do you feel about that woman being cruel to Patton based off his ancestry?"

"What?" Virgil's anger stuttered. "Um, terrible? It was a jerky thing to do and he didn't deserve that."

Janus' voice was quiet. "Then what makes you different than her?"

Virgil stared at him for a second. "What? This is completely different! Patton's only part Fae, and Patton is nice! Not evil."

"Right," Janus said. His voice was bitter and sour like an old lemon. "I thought so."

"And Patton has never hurt anyone," Virgil continued. Patton winced despite himself. "You hurt Roman. You helped burn my town. That makes you evil. That's why I hate you."

"Understood," Janus said. "Then I'd prefer it if you hated me as a person and not a dragon."

"What—" Virgil spluttered. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"Goodnight."

Virgil stared after Janus for a second before falling back into his makeshift bed, muttering something about "damn cryptic weirdo."

Soon Virgil was asleep, though, his chest rising and falling. Patton reached out and took Virgil's limp hand. Janus snored lightly on the other side of the field. Occasionally little gusts of fire shot out from his nose, but fortunately they dissipated before they could catch on any of the corn around them.

Patton lay between them, staring up at the sky. He could see the stars now that they were away from the house, spangled and scattered across like freckles or bits of paint. He tried to count them or organize them into bands and sections, but every second more appeared and he eventually just stared into the midst of them, gripping Virgil's hand to keep from floating off into the endless sky around him. There were constellations, but he couldn't remember any. Logan would be able to tell him.

Logan.

Patton closed his eyes and pressed on his eyelids to stop himself from crying. And eventually the tears went away, replaced with a dull emptiness and a tiredness that sunk into his bones. He slid off to sleep several times, each time awoken by fires and screams, eventually just pinching himself every few minutes to keep himself awake.

Morning would come eventually, and they'd find their way out of the cornfield, and they'd make their way to Logan and Remus. Virgil and Janus would make up and everything would be okay.

Still. It was a long night, lying in the cornfield, watching the stars and gripping onto Virgil's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you ever create an oc that you just hate? inside and out? purely and viciously? yeah.


	5. Chapter 5

When the sky turned purple, Patton let go of Virgil's hand and curled into a little ball on the ground, trying to look like he'd been sleeping the whole time. When the sky started turning indigo with little pink streaks, he heard Janus climb to his feet and yawn. Patton cracked open one eyelid and watched Janus stretch, cracking the bones in his back. He was quite tall, Patton realized suddenly, but it was more than that. Every part of his body seemed a bit longer than it should be and quite a lot skinnier than it maybe ought to be. It was almost mesmerizing to watch him fold and unfold, twisting the muscles in his shoulders. He hadn't worn his yellow shirt to sleep. It was neatly folded next to him, along with the hat. Instead, he was just wearing a black t-shirt and black pants that were a little too tight in all the right ways. Janus slid the yellow shirt around his shoulders and, after staring at it for a second, put on the beanie as well. Patton didn't know why that made his stomach get all warm and fuzzy.

That warmth and fuzziness was immediately eradicated when Janus marched over to him, scowled, and said "Get up already, you two."

Virgil muttered a swear word and covered his head with his hand.

Patton tried to fake-yawn and look tired. But it wasn't a problem actually yawning. He was very, very tired. His head felt filled with clouds and his eyes had decided it was a lot of work to stay open.

"Get up," Janus repeated, kicking Virgil in the leg.

"Hey!" Virgil said, flipping him off blindly. "I'll get you for that. As soon—soon as sleep bit more…"

"Come on, kiddo," Patton said, rolling over and rubbing Virgil's shoulder. "Sorry, but we have to wake up now. Can you open one eye for me?"

Virgil cracked one eye open to glare at Patton.

"Good job! Another one?"

Virgil's other eye opened.

"Now move your legs."

Virgil sighed loudly and shifted his legs.

"Arms?"

Virgil waved his arms in the air.

"Are you awake now?"

"Yeah, unfortunately." Virgil's voice was even more of a growl than usual. He coughed a few times. "Um, thanks, Pat."

"No problemo!" Patton jumped to his feet and immediately regretted it when the world spun around him. He smiled as he stumbled for a footing. Gosh, he really hadn't gotten much sleep, had he?

"Great, you're both up." Janus was digging around in his knapsack. "Food time."

"Agreed." Patton brought out a slice of bread and a little pat of butter, which he shared with Virgil. Virgil chewed on his bread sleepily, watching the sun turn the cornfields golden. Despite the light, Patton still had no idea where they were. Every cornstalk looked exactly the same.

Janus had extricated a small apple from his knapsack. "I'm sorry, but what is this?"

"Huh?" Patton laughed. "It's an apple."

"Is it…food?"

"Yes?"

Janus stared at it, turning it around. "How do I eat it?"

"You've never had an apple before?" Patton asked. "The heckity heck?"

"I'm a carnivore!" Janus poked at the apple. "I eat sheep and other stolen livestock from the farms around here. Not…whatever this is."

Patton couldn't suppress a disappointed little whimper.

"Oh, no." Janus rolled his eyes. "How have I upset you now? Is it the stealing?"

"Pat's a vegetarian," Virgil explained. "Doesn't eat meat. Feels too bad for the animals."

Janus frowned. "But you need to eat to survive?"

"I eat fruit! And vegetables!" Patton watched Janus and waited for understanding. "You…don't have those, huh?"

"Is this a fruit?" Janus asked, looking at the apple again.

"Yep!" Patton smiled. "Give it a try."

Janus blinked at the apple. "How…how do I…"

"Oh!" Patton walked over and took the apple, grabbing a small knife and splitting the apple into quarters. He handed one quarter to Janus. "Just eat it!"

Janus nibbled on the edge. "It's so, um…"

"Do you like it?" Patton watched him carefully. "It's totally okay if you don't, but also this is really all we have, so if it's good at all, I'd recommend eating it."

"It's…" He popped the rest in his mouth and swallowed, cringing slightly. "Definitely something that I just ate."

"Eat the rest of it," Patton encouraged, giving him the rest of the apple. "You'll need to put some food in your stomach."

"I'm still not quite sure whether you're lying about this being food." Nonetheless, Janus ate the rest of the apple, face twisted a little bit.

"I can't lie," Patton reminded him.

"You say that, but I'm starting not to believe you."

Before Patton could argue with that, Virgil finished off his bread and stood up. "So what now?"

"Well, the sun is over there," Patton said, pointing. "'Cause the sky is lighter? We'll want to walk towards the sun to get to the Woods, so—"

"Hold on." Virgil frowned. "What's on your arm?"

Patton glanced at his arm. A small patch of bruises stood out against his forearm, purplish and deep like flower petals. "Huh?"

Then he remembered. That's where he'd pinched himself to stay awake. It looked like he'd done more damage than he thought.

"Maybe there were rocks nearby," Janus said slowly, "and you slept on them."

"Yeah," Patton said, tucking his arm behind him. "That must be it."

"Does it hurt?" Virgil asked, trying to look at it.

"No!" Patton smiled. "I didn't even notice them until you did."

Janus was giving Patton a suspicious look. Patton gave him a breezy smile in return. Janus' eyes narrowed.

"Look, what do we do now?" Patton asked, twisting the conversation away from his bruises. "Let's walk?"

"How far is it?" Virgil asked, glancing around.

"I can't see over!" Patton rose up on his tippy-toes but the corn was still taller. "I think we'll just have to hope for the best."

"You're the tallest," Virgil snapped at Janus. "Can you see anything?"

Janus rolled his eyes. "Not in this form, no."

"Not in—" Patton clapped his hands. "Of course! Janus, can you—"

"No," Virgil interrupted.

"But—"

"No."

"Virgil. Listen." Patton reached out and took Virgil's hand. "You said it yourself—we don't know how far we are from the Woods. We only have a general sense of direction. It would be really good for us if he could do that. I know you're uncomfortable, and I understand that…but if you can, I'd like you to give it a shot."

Virgil stared at the ground. Finally he mumbled, "He could lie and lead us in the opposite direction."

"He needs to get to the Iron Woods just like we do," Patton said. "He wouldn't lie, right, Janus?"

"Of course I would lie," Janus said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "My only goal here is to get you both killed. I have nothing better to do than wander around a cornfield for the rest of my life."

"Great!" Patton nodded. "So…Janus, can you shift?"

Virgil's grip tightened on Patton's hand, but he took a deep breath and didn't argue.

"I don't think I'll be much help," Janus said. "I'll maybe be able to see the Woods, but I won't see any paths from my vantage point. I'm only a few feet taller than you, Patton."

"Right," Patton agreed. "How…how far can you go? Up? I know you can fly a little."

"I can fly a _lot_ ," Janus snapped, fists clenching. "I just…don't want to be noticed, is all."

"Oh, come on!" Virgil rolled his eyes. "We get it, you're insecure. But unless you haven't noticed, we're _lost_ in a _frigging cornfield_. Whatever's going on with you and the flying thing, it doesn't matter. We need to know exactly what you're capable of to avoid dying. There are things more important than anxiety right now. You got it?" Virgil huffed. "Can't believe I'm saying that, but yeah. We need to all be on the same page here or we're not gonna make it out."

Janus glared at Virgil, and for a second, Patton prepared to jump in between them. But Janus' defensive posture crumbled slightly and he sighed, staring at the ground.

"One of my wings is broken," he said slowly, every inch of his body tensed. "A wooden beam fell on it during the raid. I can move it, but it's painful. I won't be able to fly very far."

"Oh." Patton's instinctive concern kicked in. "Does it hurt when you're in human form?"

"No," Janus said quickly.

"Really?" Patton asked.

"I—" Janus drummed his fingers on his leg. "Perhaps a bit. But it's on the edge of my mind. It feels like a glow? It doesn't come from one source. I don't know how to explain it."

"Huh." Patton nodded. "Well, if it hurts, of course we won't ask you to fly—"

"It's fine," Janus interrupted, his face unreadable again. "It'll be quick, and we need to get out of here." His eyes flashed to Virgil. "I'm going to transform now, fair warning."

Virgil nodded, his hand somehow growing even tighter around Patton's. "Breathe," Patton whispered. Virgil took a few deep breaths. Each was strangled and uneven.

Janus' eyes were closed as he took a deep breath of his own. His legs and arms lengthened. The black of his shirt melted into plated scales, the yellow of his shirt into the few patches that dotted his back. A ridge of spines climbed down his back, a tail whipped around in the air, and two huge wings stretched out, delicate skin almost see-through. Patton told himself he wouldn't, but he couldn't stop himself—he looked at Janus' face. Yellow eyes, curled horns, and burns all down the side of his face. Pinky-red and painful.

It was Patton's turn to try and remember how to breathe.

Janus was a little too large for the path. Some of the cornstalks around him bent and broke. He had to take a running start to take off, too, so even more corn was flattened. Patton winced in sympathy with the little ears of corn falling to the ground.

The sky was lightening, beginning to look baby-blue and delicate like a robin's egg. Janus stood out against it, black and glimmering, the sun reflecting off his scales. A few more swoops of his wings—and now Patton noticed a slight hitch in the left wing, a little hesitation—and Janus was airborne, flying almost straight towards the sun, hovering as best he could and surveying the field around them.

Then the left wing stumbled altogether and he not-so-gracefully plummeted to earth. A large section of the field was squashed as he landed. Fortunately, on his feet. Patton ran down the impromptu path Janus had made and found him in human form, climbing to his feet and wincing. His hair had been blown off his face and Patton could see the burn.

Janus caught Patton looking and immediately shook his hair so it fell back into place.

"Damn," Virgil said, appearing behind Patton. "What did that corn ever do to you?"

"If it belongs to that woman, I have no regrets about it." Janus walked over, and Patton saw that he was limping slightly.

"Are you alright?" Patton asked. "That must have really hurt."

"I'm fine," Janus said, brushing off his shirt.

"You didn't seem fine—"

"I'm fine," Janus repeated. "If you're fine, I'm fine, got it?"

Patton opened his mouth, closed it again, and tried to maintain eye contact with Janus. It was hard. Janus' eyes were piercing and yellower than the sun, staring into him like he could see every wayward bad thought in Patton's mind. Like he could taste every lie that crowded on Patton's tongue, unable to escape.

"What did you see?" Virgil asked, apparently unaware of the tension.

"There's a road nearby," Janus said, finally turning away. "It's pretty close to us. I have no idea if it's the same road as before, but it leads to the Iron Woods, so it should work."

"Great," Virgil said. "And if you're lying?"

"I would gain nothing from that," Janus reminded him, "and you can feel free to shoot me with that crossbow if I did."

Virgil smirked. "I'm holding you to that."

"Wonderful." Janus brushed past Patton. "Don't just stand there gaping, come on."

Patton quickly followed as Janus strode down the path he'd plowed in the cornfield, the stalks bending away from them in a U-shape. He turned right on the actual path, picking up the knapsack he'd dropped and swinging it over his back with ease. Virgil crept after Patton, eyeing the bent stalks with unease. Janus, despite being injured, was faster. Patton held back and fell into stride with Virgil.

"I'm proud of you," Patton whispered.

"Don't be," Virgil responded. "And don't let it happen again, okay?"

"I can't promise that," Patton said. "I'm sorry, kiddo."

"Yeah. Okay." Virgil bit his lip. "Just…what do you see in him, Pat?"

"He's evil," Patton protested. "I know that! I…I just think maybe, if he was given a chance…he could be something better."

Virgil's eyebrows pulled together as he stared at Janus' back. "I don't trust him."

"Me neither."

"But I trust you," Virgil said, smiling at Patton. "Always."

Patton nodded and felt another little burden fall onto his bed. Don't betray Virgil's trust. Be good enough for his moms. Be kind enough for everyone who distrusted him. Be helpful enough for Roman. Be open enough for Janus. Be good, kind, helpful, open, happy, cheerful, _enough_. Help everyone who needed help.

But he couldn't resent Virgil. It was sweet that Virgil trusted Patton. It was heartwarming! And Patton was really glad that Virgil was learning to open up more. Patton was glad Virgil trusted him.

Just…it was a lot to live up to. Another person Patton couldn't bear to let down.

Ha. He was overthinking this. It was fine! If he kept smiling and kept helping, Virgil would never figure out what a selfish terrible person Patton really was—

Okay. Wow. That was really negative. Maybe his sleep deprivation was getting to him. Patton rubbed his eyes and forced a smile on his face, focusing on the beautiful way the corn rippled in the wind, the hypnotic dance of Janus' hair, the half-smile on Virgil's face. The world was filled with such beautiful things—oh look, a fluffy cloud, and there were some crows circling, and was that a little beetle? Cute! Why focus on negative stuff when there was so much happiness and joy in the world? It was a sunny day and they were finding their way out of the cornfield and they had a whole journey ahead of them.

And Janus hadn't lied, either. Three minutes later Patton was standing on the edge of the road. He couldn't tell if it was the same road. It looked the same. Either way, it was a road, and Patton squealed with joy.

"Oh, thank the stars," Virgil breathed, stumbling out of the cornfield. "I never thought I'd be glad to see this stupid road again."

"What do you say?" Janus asked, smirking.

"Thank you!" Patton said. "You're the best!" He darted forward and hugged Janus around the shoulders. Janus made a little noise of shock and jumped out of Patton's grasp, eyes wide. Patton immediately apologized, ignoring the disappointment in his chest at not getting to hug Janus. He bet Janus gave great hugs and cuddles! Yeah, Janus was a little bony, but he was probably really warm, and Patton could curl up to his side and—and _that was irrelevant_.

"You're very welcome," Janus purred, glancing at Virgil. "I'd like to hear it from someone else, please?"

Virgil rolled his eyes and flipped Janus off. Patton gave Virgil a reproachful look.

"If I recall, you distrusted my directions," Janus continued, his smirk growing wider. "So…"

Virgil glowered at the ground and mumbled "Thank you Janus."

"Oh, what was that?" Janus placed a hand around his ear. "Couldn't hear you."

"Thank you, Janus," Virgil said louder, looking like every word was causing him physical pain.

"You're very welcome!" Janus clapped his hands. "Now, off we go, then! I can lead the way, unless Virgil distrusts my navigation skills? I could be deceiving you about the location of the Woods, and those trees on the horizon could actually be—"

"Just get on with it," Virgil snapped. Janus snickered and led the way down the road.

"What do you see in him?" Virgil mouthed again, looking back at Patton. Patton gave a sheepish shrug. Hopefully his friends would start getting along soon.

It was another hot day, though mercifully not as blistering as yesterday. Also fortunately, they didn't seem to have gone too far backwards. Patton could make out the trees getting closer and closer. They were dark and unbroken. Beyond them was the craggy peak of Dragon Mountain—not the most creative name, but hey, it was accurate. The entire thing was scoured clean from winds. Like the mountain was bald! Patton spotted a cliff face along one side and a large cave entrance in another. There were no signs of actual dragons.

"Hey, Janus?" Patton asked. "Should we be worried about some of the dragons seeing us coming?"

"We're mainly nocturnal," Janus replied. "As long as we keep to your diurnal human schedule, we'll be fine."

"Great!"

"Why?" Janus asked, looking back at Patton. "Is it some sort of secret that we're here? I thought you were going to talk with them, not attack them."

"I am!" Patton fumbled for words. "I just—it's safest if—I don't know—"

"You're afraid of us," Janus said. He didn't look mad, but the intensity in his gaze made Patton shiver.

"No!" Patton held up his hands and smiled. "Um…I'm afraid of _them?_ "

"What's the difference?"

Before Patton could scramble to explain how Janus _was_ different than the other dragons for reasons he couldn't place but was sure existed, Janus turned around. Patton was left staring at his back. He wasn't afraid of Janus. That was true enough. He…he probably _should_ be afraid of Janus. That was also true. Janus was evil and had hurt Patton's best friend. That was true. Patton hated him.

Was that true?

It probably should be. Patton should probably keep his guard up. Janus needed them, but he was still a dragon, and if Patton made him mad he could change his mind and eat them or something.

"Do you eat people?" Patton asked without thinking.

"What?" Janus asked, turning around again and staring at Patton in bewilderment.

"Do you eat people?" Patton repeated. Virgil gave him an _are-you-serious_ look. Patton was serious! He was also probably being rude, which was not nice, but he wanted to know!

"Do you mean 'you' as in 'dragons' or 'you' as in 'me specifically?'" Janus asked.

"Both?"

"Sometimes and no, then." Janus waved a hand. "Humans are gross and stringy, no offense to present company. Most dragons only eat human if there are no other options."

"Oh." Patton felt strangely reassured by that. "Cool!"

"Very cool," Virgil agreed. "So we won't get eaten. That still leaves death by fire, death by claws, and death by impact."

"They won't attack us," Patton said firmly. "We're just here to talk! And we've got Janus, which I'm pretty sure means they'll give us a fair shot."

Janus flinched slightly. "Of course."

And that was the end of that. They kept walking down the road. The sun climbed high in the sky. Patton was already very tired and sore, and the walking was only making him more so. It was a struggle to take a step when blisters ached every time he did. He tried not to focus on the Woods that seemed so far away. Instead, he struggled to a rock in the road, then a stick, then a flattened bit of field. In little increments, he made his way down the road. He tried to whistle a song to keep his spirits up, but Janus had made a strangled hissing noise after the first five verses, so he decided for his own safety that he ought to stop.

When the sun was in the middle of the sky, they sat down on the road and ate some lunch. Janus discovered the glories of bread and Patton discreetly tried to count the rest of the food. There was…not a lot?

"Um, Janus?" Patton kept his voice level. "How long is the walk through the Iron Woods?"

"I don't know, I usually fly over them." Janus took another nibble of bread. "Probably a few days."

"A few like two or a few like five?"

"I don't know."

Patton nodded, staring at the remains of the food in their packs. That was…probably not going to last them, was it? Even if he gave his meals to Virgil, they'd still be out by day three or four. Patton decided against having an apple and slipped it discreetly into Virgil's knapsack. They'd be fine. They'd be fine.

After lunch, they picked up their knapsacks and started walking. The Woods were closer now, a fuzzy line in the distance. A cold wind rustled the tops of the fields and sent shivers up Patton's spine.

"We're close," Janus said quietly.

Patton nodded, gripping his knapsack and hoping against hope that they wouldn't reach the Woods before nightfall. Well, it would probably be better if they did, since they were running out of food. But now that he thought about it, he wasn't very excited to enter the Iron Woods. There were stories about those Woods. Some were chock-full of boogeymen and spirits to scare kids into eating their vegetables. Those weren't the ones Patton was worried about. He was worried about the stories that were whispered downstairs after the kids had gone to bed, stories about cursed trees and silver horses and people who never came back out. There were Fae in those trees, Patton knew that much, and Fae were dangerous.

Of course, he was part Fae. He had a Fae's luck and a Fae's inability to lie and a Fae's ears. But he was only a little Fae. And he wasn't dangerous. He couldn't steal someone's name or curse someone's baby or turn into all manner of horrible creatures. All he could do was be lucky and tell the truth. Wonderful skills for a Woods teeming with deadly creatures.

What had his moms said? During that meeting they'd had a while back, when Patton was little and Virgil wasn't part of the family yet? Patton had been sat down at the table, his feet kicking at the edge of the chair, and he'd been told the rules.

"If you see someone who's too perfect to be human? They're not human. Never give them your name. Never follow them anywhere. Never eat their food. Never invite them in. You can believe what they say but not what they do. And don't ever make a deal with them."

Patton had nodded and agreed to never, ever talk to any Fae. That hadn't been a promise he'd ever broken. The Fae never left the Iron Woods anymore. Long ago, they'd roamed all over the world, and magic had mixed with mortals. Now it was hemmed in, far away from the city, trapped in all the different Woods. There were the Woods up north where Jackson Morton's brother-in-law had disappeared into, the Woods by the river where Lilia King's older sister had traded her hair for a spinning wheel, the Woods under the mountains where Lee Price's second cousin had been turned into a bear. So many stories. Maybe not all of them were true, maybe all of them were exaggerated over late fires and soggy beers, but if even one was slightly true? They might be in trouble.

Never give them your name. Never follow them anywhere. Never eat their food. Never invite them in. And don't ever make a deal with them.

Patton stared at his hands and wondered if he'd be immune to any Fae powers. Or if he was human enough to be caught in their web, just like anyone else. Hopefully he wouldn't have to find out.

"We're getting close," Janus said, snapping Patton out of his thoughts.

"You already said that," Virgil complained. He was limping slightly and his knapsack listed on his back. "Can we just get there already? Certain death is preferable to this freaking heat."

"It's not," Janus said. "It's really, really not."

Patton was about to reassure Virgil, but a blister chose that moment to pop on his right foot, and he had to squinch up his face and try to fight through the pain. He stared at the road and steadied himself, taking one step at a time. One step. One step. One step.

After a large number of steps, he heard Virgil say, "The heck?"

Patton looked up. Stuck on a large pole by the road was a cattle head. Painted on it were the words DEAD END.

"It's not a dead end," Janus protested. "It leads to the Woods. What are they talking about?"

"It's funny!" Patton said, giggling. "'Cause you'll probably be dead if you go this way! Dead end!"

Virgil stared at him, apparently not finding it funny at all.

"Oh." Janus read the sign again and snickered a bit. "Okay, that's funny."

Virgil was staring at Janus now. Definitely didn't find it funny. Oh, well.

"So we're close?" Patton asked.

"Yes, Patton." Janus looked like he was resisting the urge to scream. "For the _third_ time, _we are close_."

"I dunno about this." Virgil was chewing on his sleeve, staring up at the makeshift sign. "Usually I try to avoid places that proclaim our imminent death. Does that make sense?"

"Look, we _could_ fly over it," Janus snapped, "except _you_ don't want me to shift."

"You _can't fly_ , idiot—"

"Guys!" Patton once again stepped between them. Oh boy, this was going to be the whole trip, wasn't it? "Janus, be nice, and remember you can't actually fly. Virgil, if you feel uncomfortable staying with us, I completely understand. You can turn back anytime."

"Can I?" Virgil raised an eyebrow. "We've been walking for almost two days now. I'm not walking back on my own."

"We could figure something out." Patton sighed. "Look, Virgil, I don't like the idea of you going in there, either. So if you want to back out, I'm on your side."

"Yeah, so you can go in there alone with _him?_ " Virgil stabbed a finger in Janus' direction. Janus was pointedly examining a tuft of grass by the side of the road. "No thanks."

"I'll be _fine_ , kiddo." Patton smiled. "Promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Virgil said, a smile tugging at his own lips. "And you're stuck with me, Pat. Sorry."

"No apologies!" Patton's desire to get Virgil to leave was overridden by his protective instinct. "No self-deprecation! I _love_ to have you around!"

"Are you done?" Janus asked, now watching a cloud meander across the sky. "Or is this just going to keep happening? We want to get as far as possible before nightfall."

"Can they even see us between the trees?" Virgil asked, starting to walk again. Patton followed. "I think we could totally pull some all-nighters—"

"I'm not just worried about being spotted by dragons," Janus said, pointedly walking in front of Virgil. "I'm worried about being spotted by _other_ …things."

Virgil sped up and outpaced Janus. "Yeah, but they'll spot us in the daytime, too. We're dead either way."

"I'd rather face my enemies where I can see them." Janus' strides were the longest they could be as he raced Virgil down the road.

Virgil was half-running at this point. "Me too, which is why I'd like to not fall asleep in the middle of a deadly forest with a _dragon_ —"

"Guys!" Patton called from ten feet behind them, struggling to keep up. "Slow down! And Virgil, we are not walking through the night! It's not healthy! Sleep is important for you and we need everyone to be sharp and alert."

Virgil finally slowed down and Patton puffed his way to Virgil's side. "I guess," Virgil admitted.

"Thanks for taking my side," Janus said with a smile. "I like being told that I'm right."

"I'm not—I wasn't—it's not about sides!" Patton folded his arms and pouted. "I'm on my own side. I'm _neutral_."

"Right." Janus rolled his eyes. "Because you totally don't hate one of us and treat the other like your blood relative."

"Hmph." Patton stuck out his tongue at Janus. To his great surprise and glee, Janus stuck out his tongue back. Patton stuck out his tongue more, enjoying the little scrunch of Janus' nose as he retaliated.

"Hey," Virgil said. "Stop."

"Stop what?" Janus asked, immediately resuming a neutral expression. "We weren't doing anything."

"Yeah," Patton said, his expression anything but neutral. "Don't be ridiculous, kiddo."

"Not the time." Virgil's voice was tight. "Look up."

Patton did.

A few feet ahead of them, the road ended.

He'd expected the road to continue into the Woods or to bend out of the way. He didn't expect the road to simply crumble into chunks of dirt, roots threading through the surface and _uprooting_ —ha—the last remains of the road. The fields on either side cut off suddenly, the edge sheer and clean like a knife blade. One second there was grass, the next trees.

Patton had seen trees before. He'd spent many lazy afternoons in the orchards outside of town, picking apples and biting into them, swinging his legs off the branches. But those trees were small and orderly and arranged into neat little rows. These trees were old and huge, gnarled and twisted, some of them dipping down to the ground before finally making their way to the sky. The leaves were dark green and spread so thick over the top of the forest that they were almost a woven net. They completely blocked out the sun. Moss patterned the shadowy corners and brambles lined the tiniest gaps. Patton squinted between the trees. They went back as far as his eyes could make out. Between them was only darkness.

Except for the iron. He probably should have made the connection to the name. But there was iron everywhere. Cast-iron pots, pans, and machines covered the ground. Gears and chainmail dripped from the trees. Molten metal pooled on the forest floor in little puddles, rippling and hardening around the roots. The iron caught the minimal light in the Woods, sending glimmering sunlight across the tree trunks in little patterns.

Patton took a deep breath. Wet dirt, crushed mint, rusted iron, and a lingering scent of honey. Even standing near the Woods made his skin feel damp and cloying. It was quiet, except for the rustling of leaves and the occasional lone call of a bird deep within the forest. Three notes. Descending scale. Over and over again.

Patton licked his lips and tasted dew on his tongue.

"Okay," Virgil said faintly. "Right."

"What's with all the iron?" Patton asked Janus, who rolled his eyes and said, "They're called the Iron Woods for a reason, you know."

"Yeah, but why?" Patton kept thinking he saw movement between the trees, but every time he looked, no one was there. "I'm curious."

"You don't know?" Janus looked confused. "This entire place is meant to trap magical creatures, especially Fae. Iron is like a barrier for them. It's pretty much deadly."

"Oh." Patton shivered. "So it kills them?"

"Not if they don't touch it?" Janus waved a hand. "But it basically guarantees they'll never make their way out."

"Who did that?" Virgil asked, stepping closer to the trees and running his hand over one of the roots. "Some of that iron looks almost new."

"Well, we did." Janus looked confused again. "That's why we steal your iron every few years. We need to keep the Iron Woods stocked with iron to protect all of us."

"What?" Patton said faintly.

"I said, that's why we—"

"I know, I heard." Patton screwed his eyes shut and waved his hands. "I just—I didn't—I never actually knew. The reason. You do that. I think we assumed it was a hoarding thing."

"We hoard nice things. Not rusty metal." Janus actually looked kind of offended. "We do have _standards_ , Patton."

"Well." Patton's brain was struggling to catch up with this newest piece of information. "That's. A thing."

"Wait." Virgil looked less confused and more furious. "You mean you've _razed entire towns_ so you can _decorate your forest?"_

"In case you've _forgotten_ , the Woods are _dangerous!"_ Janus hissed. "We're doing this for you as much as us!"

"Oh, yeah, sure, it's totally helpful to burn down our houses and kill our families." Virgil spat each word, molten with anger. "Why didn't you just _ask?"_

Janus opened his mouth, probably to snap back, and then blinked rapidly. "What?"

"Ask," Patton said. "Virgil—Virgil has a point. If it helps us too, we could give away metal we're done with! You could have just asked!"

"Yes," Janus said, recovering himself, "because everyone's inclined to believe and trust _dragons_."

Patton winced. "Yeah, I see your point, but I feel like if they knew why you did that stuff, it would change things?"

"I doubt it," Virgil growled. "Ends don't justify the means, and the fact is, you're _all_ a bunch of murderers—"

"Virgil!" Patton scolded. "Now is not the time! We're going to go into the Iron Woods now, okay?"

Janus nodded, still looking kind of rattled. "Right. Iron Woods."

"Fine." Virgil said, folding his arms. "Let's go."

"Okay?" Patton tiptoed closer to the line of trees. "Um. How do we get in?" The trees were an unbroken wall.

"There should be a path." Janus scanned the trees. "Right?"

"I don't see one." Virgil's anger appeared to fade, replaced with worry. "I really don't like this, guys."

"Well, too bad, this is the quickest and pretty much only way to the Mountain." Janus reached out and pushed a few branches aside. "I think that's a path. Patton, do you see it?"

Patton squinted between the trees. It looked like the underbrush was thinner there, but it was narrow and disappeared quickly into the gloom. "I think so? I'm not sure."

"It might not be a real path," Virgil warned. "Forests love to trick you by having fake paths. You can get lost easily if you just follow them."

"It's going in the right direction," Patton said. "If it bends, we can take another one!"

"How will we know the right direction?"

"Moss on the side of trees, right?" Patton shrugged. "That's what I heard. The north side of a tree is mossy."

Virgil pointed at the trees. "All sides of those trees are mossy."

"Oh." Patton looked at the moss cloaking every tree in soft green. "Right."

"Anyway, the 'don't follow random paths' rule applies to normal forests." Janus waved a hand. "This is the Iron Woods. There _are_ no random paths. If it looks like a path, it probably is one."

"So we just go in there?" Virgil swallowed, staring at the forest. "Now?"

"No time to waste," Janus said, but he also eyed the forest with apprehension. "I…perhaps we should set out some rules first."

"Don't talk to Fae?" Patton asked. "'Cause I remember the rules about Fae."

"It's not just Fae in here."

A breeze swept over them, and Patton shivered, wrapping one arm around himself.

"Five rules," Janus said, holding up five fingers. "First rule, don't step off the path."

Virgil frowned. "But we don't even know if this path is the path!"

"Don't care. Don't leave it." Janus tucked a finger into his palm. "Second rule—this ties into the first one—don't follow any lights, voices, or 'gut feelings.' This place will trick you into leaving the path or taking the wrong direction. Don't let it."

Patton frowned. "But I get gut feelings all the time! It's a luck thing. I'm lucky."

"Trust me, you'll be able to tell the difference." Janus tucked away another finger. "Third rule. Watch where you step."

Patton looked at his shoes and the frayed edge of his overalls. "Okay."

"Fourth rule." Janus nodded at Patton. "This is basically what you've probably been told a hundred times. Don't talk to Fae, engage with them, give them your name, or make a deal with them."

"Yeah," Patton said.

"We should also use nicknames." Janus looked at Virgil and Patton. "Or just don't use names altogether. You never know who's listening."

Virgil nodded.

"Fifth rule. Use common sense. This may be hard for some of us—" Janus gave Virgil a pointed glare. "—but it's important. Your priority is your own survival and no one else's. If you see some random berries, don't eat them. If you see a random pure white animal, don't follow it. If you have a feeling we need to split up, _don't split up._ Simple stuff. We are not becoming a cautionary tale about hubris or naivete, understand me?"

"Got it," Virgil said, looking if possible even more nervous.

"Good." Janus turned to face the Woods. "So in we go?"

"In we go," Patton agreed.

"Let's not die," Virgil added.

Janus pulled apart two branches and slipped into the Woods. Patton followed, squeezing between the branches. He noticed little droplets of iron in the bark. Virgil came last, cursing as a branch slashed his knee. "Language," Patton whispered.

"Here's the path," Janus said, grabbing Patton's hand and tugging him onto it. Patton stumbled to a halt. It was as narrow as he thought it would be, only big enough to walk in single file. Iron lined either side, silverware and coins and anything that could make a barrier between the path and the rest of the forest. The trees hung above them, twisting into a sort of ceiling. It was really dark. Little bits of fog floated by the ground, silvery and slippery. One darted around Patton's legs and sent goosebumps up his spine.

"This is it," Virgil said quietly. "We're actually here."

"It's kind of beautiful," Patton said, admiring the moss and the twinkling bits of dew and the shining metal between the trees. "In a scary way."

"I've never…I've never been in here." Janus' voice was soft. "I shouldn't be in here."

"Yeah, that's what I was saying!" Virgil seemed to be trying to curl away from both sides of the path. "People come in here and they _don't come out_."

"We'll be safe," Patton said bracingly. "Just don't step off the path."

"It's so narrow!" Virgil shrunk away from the trees. "I'm gonna step off the path accidentally and get my name taken or something!"

"You'll be fine. Just step carefully." Janus stepped forward, immediately stumbled, and careened off to the edge of the path. He instinctively reached for a tree to support himself. Then he seemed to remember the trees were not to be touched. Steadying himself, he took a few more steps, wobbling a bit. "Carefully."

"You okay there?" Patton asked.

"I can walk normally," Janus snapped, "but as soon as someone tells me I _have_ to, suddenly everything seizes up."

"Really?" Patton concentrated on his feet and tried to walk down the center of the path. His angles wobbled and he had to fight to maintain his balance. Suddenly the usual action of walking in a straight line seemed very, very hard. "Okay. I see what you mean."

Virgil watched Patton as Patton stumbled over a root and twisted in midair to avoid falling off the path. "So what you're saying is we're doomed."

"We're not doomed," Janus huffed, rolling his eyes. "Just distract yourself from the actual motion of walking and let your brain work automatically."

"Oh!" Patton clapped his hands together. "Can we sing songs?"

Janus stared at Patton for a very, very long time. "What."

"Songs!" Patton turned to Virgil. "Hiking songs! Vir—my kiddo knows what I'm talking about, right?"

"Unfortunately." Virgil gave Patton a pleading look. "C'mon. Should we really be singing right now? Ja—snake, singing will get us killed somehow, right?"

"We're already talking, so any stealth has been tossed off a cliff—"

"Yay!" Patton squealed. "We can sing songs!"

"Hey," Virgil said, eyes wide. "Snake. Betrayal."

"How about ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall?" Patton asked. "I usually change it to milk since I'm too young for alcohol. Hey, we'll be walking for a while, so maybe I'll finally make my way down to zero!"

"I was wrong," Janus said hastily. "Singing will definitely attract all sorts of attention. Best to avoid it altogether. For our own safety."

Patton frowned. "Aww."

"Save it for the Fae." Janus started walking on the path again, his motions much steadier now that he was focused on glaring at Patton. Virgil followed, his walking not steady at all. Patton came last, one hand out to catch Virgil if he started to fall. Another wind whistled past them, ruffling Patton's hair. He shivered once again. It had been a warm day, right? Why was it so cold in here?

Janus tripped on a rock. Fortunately, he planted his feet and remained standing. Unfortunately, Virgil plowed right into him and started falling to the edge of the path. Patton jumped over to Virgil and shoved him back onto the path. The momentum made Patton himself wobble. But he stepped backwards and didn't fall.

"Pat—?" Janus asked, his eyes widening.

"What?" Patton asked, looking down.

He'd stepped backwards off the path.

A tendril of root wrapped around Patton's leg and tugged.

And the whole world turned upside down.

Patton blinked as the blood rushed to his head. After a few seconds of dizziness, the world came back into focus. Something was holding Patton up by the leg, probably that root. His hair dangled down and his arms swung wildly. Virgil and Janus were about at his eye level. Virgil looked extremely worried. Janus looked annoyed.

"Hi?" Patton squeaked. "Um, I think I'm stuck?"

"You don't say," Virgil muttered, tugging off his knapsack and rifling through it. "C'mon, Pat, didn't you pack a knife?"

"It's in the pocket," Patton said, twisting around to see if he could escape. The root held firm. His leg was starting to ache from holding him up. His other leg was starting to ache from not being held up.

"This pocket?"

"No, the other pocket! The small pocket!"

"This one?"

"That's larger than the first pocket, not smaller!"

Virgil ran his hands through his hair. "Where—where—snake, don't just stand there like a lump, help me _find_ it!"

"You should be dead," Janus said instead, looking at Patton.

"What?" Patton asked. "Um, why?"

"The tree could have easily strangled you." Janus stared at the roots. "But it chose to just suspend you. Which means…" His face whitened. "Which means it's waiting for someone."

"Where is the freaking knife?" Virgil yelled, dumping all the stuff from his knapsack. A few apples bounced on the forest floor.

Janus sighed and started rifling through his own knapsack. "I don't see one in here, either."

"Did I pack the knives?" Patton tried to remember. "Maybe I didn't."

"What do you mean, _maybe you didn't?"_ Virgil yelled. "We were planning a trip to a deadly forest and you _didn't pack any_ _knives?_ "

"I was tired!" Patton protested. He was starting to sway around. He closed his eyes to try and stop the dizziness. "I'm sorry!"

"Ugh!" Virgil tossed the whole knapsack on the ground. "Stupid!"

"I'm sorry!" Okay, the eyes-closed just made things worse. Patton opened them again, trying very hard not to cry.

"Not you, Pat." Virgil rubbed his eyes, standing up. "We need a—"

He glanced behind Janus, who was pushing aside bits of bread. "Hey, there's one!"

Janus looked around. Behind him was a silvery knife gleaming in a bush, handle sticking up in the air.

"Don't touch that," Janus said, springing to his feet.

"But—"

"Don't touch it," Janus growled. "They're trying to lure _you_ off the path too."

Virgil waved a hand at Patton. "Well, how are we supposed to get him down?"

Janus looked at Patton thoughtfully. "We could always leave him."

"What?" Virgil yelled. "No!"

"I'm just saying, it's the smartest thing to do—"

"I can't believe this." Virgil's hands were starting to shake. "I can't believe you."

"Kiddo, it's okay—" Patton reached out towards Virgil automatically. The movement sent him spinning. He drifted in a few lazy circles before settling to a stop. Unfortunately, it was a stop that left him facing the trees instead of Virgil and Janus. He could see little rivulets of iron in the bark. He tried to kick off the tree with one foot, but only managed to stub his toe. His knapsack was dangling by one strap now, the contents sure to fall out—

"My knapsack!" Patton exclaimed. "I have a knife in my knapsack!"

"You do?" Virgil's voice was hoarse with relief. "That's great!"

"Not great," Janus said. "How are we supposed to get his knapsack without stepping off the path?"

"I can hand it to you!" Patton reached up for the knapsack. It was harder than he expected. Silly gravity, always getting in his way. He fumbled with the strap and only managed to spin himself in a few more circles. The knapsack started to slip again.

"Watch it!" Virgil said. "If it falls, we're never getting it!"

"Can you throw it?" Janus asked.

"I can try!" Patton laughed awkwardly. "But I've always been more of a thrower than a catcher. Also I'm upside-down."

"Right." Janus pinched his nose. "V, I implore you to consider leaving Pat for the Fae."

Virgil didn't even bother to snap back at Janus, shooting him a disgusted look before tiptoeing to the very edge of the path. There were only a few inches between them now, but Virgil was teetering on the line, and Patton was still lazily drifting in circles.

"Please try to hand it to me?" Virgil asked. He held out one hand. Patton tried to shrug off his knapsack but it slipped down his arm more. He closed his eyes, breathed, and flipped the whole knapsack off. Then he snatched blindly at it. For a second he met air. His heart stopped.

Then he snatched the top. A few apples fell out and hit the forest floor, but the rest was safe.

Patton smiled and passed the knapsack to Virgil. Janus immediately dragged Virgil back from the edge of the path as Virgil dumped the contents of the knapsack on the ground. A small knife hit the dirt.

"Oh, come on!" Virgil complained. "Pat, it's tiny!"

"That is definitely not going to work," Janus agreed, looking at the tree branch Patton was suspended from. "It would take a long time to get him free, increasing the chances of some magical creature killing us all."

"Great," Virgil muttered. "Fantastic. Wonderful. I don't suppose you have an idea, snake?"

"I'm a _dragon_ ," Janus snapped. "And in fact, I do have a suggestion!"

"If it's leaving Pat behind, _no_."

Janus nodded. "Then I _don't_ have a suggestion."

"I do!" Patton said. "None of you can even reach up here, right?"

"That's a good point," Virgil said, looking up at Patton. "But not a suggestion, just another reason to panic."

"No, no, hear me out!" Patton waved his hands. "Janus can turn into a dragon and bite the branch to get me down!"

Virgil's face immediately shifted from worry to incredulity. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'd be stepping off the path," Janus said. "I'm not doing that."

"You're a dragon. And it would be for like a second." Patton paused. "I mean, if you don't want to, you don't have to, and I know Vir—my kiddo is probably uncomfortable with it—"

"That's putting it a little lightly," Virgil grumbled. "I'd rather not have him biting near your feet, Pat. Or biting near you at all."

"Do you think I'm a child?" Janus asked. "I know how to get someone down without biting them!"

"Oh, really?" Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Might want to see some proof of that."

Janus paused. "That's not going to work, V, but good effort."

Virgil swore.

"Please?" Patton tried to clasp his hands, but it was hard since he was upside-down and also his head was starting to spin. "Pretty-please, Jan?"

Janus stared at him for a long time. "If I do it, will you promise to never call me 'Jan' again?"

"I thought you said nicknames!"

"Even snake is better than that one!"

"Deal!" Patton looked at Virgil. "Kiddo? Is this okay?"

Virgil sighed. "I…I guess if it'll help. I'm gonna be down the path, okay? Far away from you guys."

"You do that." Janus watched Virgil leave. "What is his _problem?_ "

"Jay-Jay?" Patton asked, a gust of wind sending him spinning once again. "Hate to interrupt, but I'm kind of still trapped?"

"Right. Right." Janus closed his eyes. "I would like to state that this was all a terrible idea and I hate you. Also, I changed my mind. Jan is better than Jay-Jay."

"Okay, Jan!"

Patton was facing the tree again when there was a blast of wind behind him. The next thing he knew, a tail curled around his body to keep him steady and Janus' head was level with his. Patton looked into Janus' eye and swallowed. Okay, Janus had very sharp teeth. And a very big head. And a very strong scaly tail that wrapped around Patton's midriff quite firmly. But Janus needed them. He was _not_ going to eat Patton. He _wasn't_.

Janus started gnawing on the branch, making a little growl of displeasure and spitting out the pieces. It probably didn't taste great, did it? And it might be hurting his teeth, too. Ugh, why did Patton have to be so stupid and get himself into trouble?

The branch creaked and started to snap. Janus' tail tightened around Patton, pulling Patton to his side. Patton was now back-to-back with a _dragon_. This was…something.

"How are you?" Virgil called. "Alive?"

"Yeah?" Patton squeaked.

"You don't sound sure!"

Before Patton could explain that he wasn't quite sure he would remain alive for much longer, the branch snapped entirely. Patton plummeted to the ground, already bracing for impact. But Janus tugged him out of the air and tossed him to the path with his tail. Patton rolled along the path and managed to stop himself before he fell off the path _again_.

"Are you alive?" Janus asked, turning into a human again. He looked disinterested in the answer.

"Pat!" Virgil yelled, racing over and helping Patton to his feet. "Does it hurt? Are you okay?"

"It doesn't—" Patton's voice clogged in his throat. Because now that he was on the ground, it did hurt. A lot. His ankle stung where the branch had grabbed him and his head swam as all the blood rushed back down to his feet.

"Hey, c'mere, sit down." Virgil sat Patton back down. "Shouldn't have even made you stand up. My fault."

"It's okay," Patton said.

"You're sure you're not hurt? Let me look at your ankle." Virgil pulled Patton's overalls up. The entire ankle was rubbed raw and little bits of it were bleeding. "Oh, yikes, Pat."

"It looks worse than it is," Patton lied. "I'll be fine."

"Still, we should patch it up." Virgil glanced at the supplies strewn about the path. "Um, where'd I dump the medical supplies?"

Janus delicately tossed a roll of bandages to Virgil.

"Thanks," Virgil said. "Don't suppose you could make yourself useful and clean up all this mess?"

Janus gave a long-suffering sigh, sat down in the middle of the path, and began to repack the knapsacks.

"Stay still," Virgil instructed, dabbing at Patton's ankle with his sleeve. "I should clean this first, actually. Janus? Canteen?"

Janus chucked a canteen at Virgil. It hit Virgil's shoulder with a thud. Virgil caught it before it rolled away and flipped Janus off. Janus flipped him off in return.

"Here we go." Virgil poured a bit of water on Patton's ankle and wiped at it. "That should clean it out for a bit."

"You're wasting your water," Patton complained.

"It's only a little." Virgil smiled briefly. "Besides, I don't mind."

Patton huffed.

"Okay, bandage time." Virgil unwrapped a few bandages, lifted Patton's foot up, and rested it on Virgil's knee. "Tell me if these are too tight, alright?"

Patton nodded and fought back a whine of pain as Virgil wrapped the injury. He dug his hands into the dirt and clenched his jaw until Virgil was done, tying the wrap with a flourish and sitting back.

"Can you move it?" Virgil asked.

Patton wiggled his toes, pushed himself to his feet, and walked a few steps. "Yep! Thanks, kiddo!"

"No problem," Virgil said, smiling wider. "Glad you're okay."

"I cleaned up your mess, oh master," Janus interrupted icily, slamming a knapsack into Virgil's arms. "Now that we've all bandaged our boo-boos, let's talk about what just happened. It was a great learning experience, I think." Janus glared at Patton. "A wonderful example of what we will _not_ be doing if we want to _live_."

"I'm sorry!" Patton said. "Really! I just…I was trying to keep Virg—my kiddo steady and I stepped wrong, I didn't mean to—"

Janus glared at him for a second longer before sighing. "I guess I shouldn't have expected anything different. At least V didn't actually grab that knife he saw."

"I'm still considering it," Virgil admitted. "No knives? Come on. That means all we've got is my crossbow, and I'm okay with a crossbow, but that's nothing against a magic forest."

"I said I'm sorry!" Patton felt tears bubbling up behind his eyes again. Oh, come on, why was he always so sensitive? It must have been the lack of sleep. "I just forgot them, kiddo, it was late, I'm really sorry—"

"It's fine," Virgil said. "Pat. Seriously. It's fine."

"It's not," Janus whispered, and Virgil elbowed him in the chest.

"Just don't do it again," Janus said instead, sweeping past Patton, his own knapsack already on his back. "And let's get moving before whatever tried to catch him comes looking for their prey."

Patton shuddered, looking back at the ropy branch that still dangled in midair, sliced through by dragon's teeth. He hurried to catch up with Janus.

But not too much. He couldn't run. He had to watch his feet. If he messed up one step, he might not get to take another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the disasters gays have entered the forest what crimes will they commit


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: drowning and arguing

Walking through the Iron Woods was different than walking through the fields. In the fields, despite the silence between them, Patton was filled with energy and excitement and hope. Those things seemed illegal here. Instead, every step filled Patton with foreboding. Every twist of the path was shadowy and promised more danger ahead. Every time Patton stumbled his body seized up, afraid he'd fall off the path again and get caught by something Janus and Virgil couldn't save him from.

They didn't talk, of course. They hadn't before and they didn't now. Not that Patton was being stealthy or anything. His footsteps were unbearably loud. The whole Woods probably knew they were here.

Still, not talking made it less likely Patton would mess up with the names.

He was stuck in a place where using the wrong _name_ could mean death.

Why'd he wanted to do this again?

Right. For Logan and Remus. For Roman. For Virgil. For Janus, who needed to get back home. For his friends. For his friends, he was stepping deeper and deeper into the Iron Woods. Every second there was less and less time to escape, less and less time to admit he was terrified and turn around and go home.

Patton squared his shoulders and kept walking.

He still stood by his first impression of the Iron Woods. They _were_ beautiful. The dappled sunlight on the moss, the interlocking roots that spread across the ground like a carpet, the gleam of the iron dazzling the trees like chunks of snow—it was all beautiful. But it was also all terrifying. Every tree bent unnaturally. Every shadow was too dark. Patton was sure someone was watching him—he could feel the prickling on the back of his neck—and he was sure he kept seeing movement in the corner of his eye. But whenever he looked closer there was no one, and whenever he turned around, there was only an empty path behind him.

"You okay, Pat?" Virgil asked after Patton looked around for the fifth time.

"I can feel them," Patton admitted. "The Woods. Watching me."

"Yeah," Virgil said, his shoulders tense. "I know what you mean."

The sun must have fallen close to the horizon as the day wore on, but Patton didn't see it. All he saw were the shadows continuing to darken until it was only the trees nearest that still gleamed with light. Patton walked even slower now. Every step he took with care. Virgil reached back and gripped Patton's hand. Patton was glad of it. Even though it meant both would fall if one stumbled, the pulse of Virgil's heartbeat helped Patton breathe.

"We should stop and eat," Virgil called ahead to Janus.

"Later," Janus said.

"You're going to say that forever. You're a dragon—you don't need food like we do." Virgil gestured at Patton. "He's hungry, I can tell."

"What?" Patton chuckled. "I'm not—"

"Your stomach's been rumbling for the past ten minutes."

Patton looked down at his stomach, which obligingly rumbled. Traitor.

"Fine," Janus snapped. "You stop walking first, so I don't get barreled into again."

Patton did. So did Virgil. Janus kept walking.

"Hey!" Virgil complained. "Get back here!"

"I'm scouting ahead," Janus said. "I want to make use of the time you're spending on food."

"You're coming back, though." Patton hated how his voice trembled. "Right?"

Janus paused and sighed softly. "Yes, Pat."

Patton nodded and tried his very best to believe Janus.

Janus kept walking along the path. Every few steps he stumbled, just barely. His left leg dragged slightly and he winced whenever he stepped down particularly hard. It was tough to see in the dimming light. But Patton was pretty sure.

"Jan," Patton called.

Janus paused, the trees throwing him in shadow. "Yes?"

Patton swallowed. "Be careful, okay?"

Janus stayed silent for a very long time. Finally, Patton heard a quiet "I will."

And Janus was gone, swallowed by the shadows.

Patton nibbled at his bread and tried to keep his hands from shaking. The bread was all dirty and dusty from falling to the ground after Patton made the stupid mistake of stepping off the path. Still, it was all he had, so he choked it down. They were definitely running out of food. Patton snuck his carrot into Virgil's dinner when Virgil wasn't looking. Virgil ate it slowly. He looked as worried as Patton felt, never taking his hand off his crossbow, glancing around at the trees with his eyes narrowed.

It had been five minutes or so—maybe ten, it was hard to tell, time seemed to have frozen—when Patton heard footsteps. Virgil jumped to his feet, aiming his crossbow at the rustling in the shadows down the path. Patton clenched his fists, heart jumping out of his chest, hoping it was who he thought it was.

Two yellow eyes.

And Janus emerged from the shadows, his hands raised in surrender. "Put down your crossbow, V. It's just me."

"Oh, thank heavens." Patton beamed. "I was worried."

"Hold on." Virgil's fingers tightened on his crossbow. "How do we know it's not some Fae trying to impersonate him? I need something only Jan would know."

"Yes, because Fae can _totally_ impersonate people." Janus rolled his eyes. "And they can _totally_ walk on the path. My opinion of your intelligence sinks by the minute."

Virgil lowered his crossbow. "Okay, it's him. Also, rude much?"

"Are you finished eating yet?" Janus asked. "Have either of you stepped off the path again?"

"Yes and no!" Patton sprung to his feet. "Did you spot anything?"

"There's a lake up ahead," Janus said. "The path goes right by it."

"That's good," Patton said. "We need water."

"Do we?" Virgil asked, sloshing his canteen. "Oh. Huh. Yeah, we need water."

"Good find, Jan!" Patton clapped his hands. "Lead the way!"

"No!" Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. "We _avoid_ the lake."

"What?" Patton frowned. "Why?"

"Because it's _off the path_ , idiot."

"I know," Patton said, "but we need water, and if it's only a little off the path we should be fine—"

"Are you hearing yourself?" Janus hissed. "That is the exact wrong line of logic to be having right now! That is how they get you, Pat!"

"We do need water," Virgil said warily.

"It might rain soon." Janus folded his arms. "But the things that lurk in these lakes…you do _not_ want to meet them."

"Great." Virgil glanced at Patton. "So…no water."

Patton sighed. "No water."

"Good." Janus glanced behind him. "Now I want both of you to walk past that lake without looking at it. Can you do that?"

Virgil narrowed his eyes. "Why."

"Because—" Janus flexed his hands. "Because it's dangerous."

"Why?" Patton asked.

"If I tell you, you'll want to look."

"Is it a turn-us-to-stone kind of situation?" Virgil asked.

"No," Janus admitted. "But it's a trap, and I have no faith whatsoever that Pat wouldn't end up falling right into it."

Patton tried not to let that sting. Yeah, he'd messed up like a doofus, but he did still know a trap when he saw one. He could handle himself! He wasn't a total idiot! Just clumsy and kind of bad with numbers. As long as the trap didn't involve lying his way out, he would be fine.

"Let's just go," Virgil said. "We won't look or whatever. As long as you promise this isn't some sort of trick on your end."

"Yes, it's a trick. I gain so much from having you die in the middle of the forest." Janus swept around and led them down the path. "Keep up, and don't look to your left."

So Patton stared at Virgil's back and ignored the itch in his brain that told him to look to the left. He stumbled his way down the path, watching Janus' hair dance in the wind, shuddering when something brushed against his leg. The sun must have been dying in the west at this point, since the little light there was shone golden and orange. It made Janus glow against the trees. Virgil, too, but Virgil didn't shine in the way Janus did, like his skin was still made of scales.

It wasn't a bad thing to look at for a while. So Patton was perfectly content staring at Janus, until it lightened a bit and Janus' steps increased in speed.

And then Patton heard the crying.

Oh, _no_.

It was weak. It was small and soft. It broke every few seconds and quieted, like someone was trying to stifle their tears.

It's a trap, he told himself. It's a trap, Janus said it's a trap, _don't look_.

But he knew whoever was crying was _right there_. He could feel them, inches from him. All he had to do was turn around and see them. Then he could help. He could stop the little quiet crying that tore his heart up.

"Jan," Patton whispered.

"Don't look," Janus responded, not turning around.

"But—"

"Don't!" Janus snarled.

His whole chest hurt now. He hated hearing people cry. He ached to turn around and reach out to whoever it was. But it was a trap. Janus said it was. And Janus…would Janus lie about that?

Maybe it wasn't really dangerous at all. Maybe Janus was just lying to get Patton to keep walking. Janus wanted them to keep moving. He wouldn't want any distractions. Maybe the only danger was losing time.

But losing time was a danger! They needed to save Logan and Remus. They really didn't have time to help whoever it was who was crying.

Still, could it hurt to just peek—

What was he _thinking?_ This was the Iron Woods. Everything in here was trying to lure him into danger. Right?

The crying was louder now, more desperate. Patton couldn't make out any words, but he could feel the sadness and pain in his own chest. Why weren't they past it yet? He was going to cry. He _was_. He could already feel his eyes burning.

"Jan," Patton pleaded around the lump in his throat.

"Oh, for hoard's sake!" Janus yelled, turning around and glaring at him. "For _once_ will you just shut up and keep walking!"

Patton flinched back. The anger in Janus' eyes made his heart clench. Instinctively, he looked away.

Away in the exact direction Janus told him not to look.

And any fear Patton might have had was erased by what he saw.

They were overlooking a small pebbled beach with a few iron chunks and old stone bricks littering the surface. Beyond the stone and sand was a lake. It was small enough that Patton could see the trees ringing the other side, but large enough that there was a little island in the middle with a few tufts of grass on top. The water was glassy and still. It reflected a few clouds shot through with glimmering gold, the last vestiges of the sunset.

In the middle of the lake was a unicorn.

Patton tried to find another word for it. Another explanation. Unicorns—unicorns weren't real. Right? They'd been hunted to extinction years and years ago.

But this was undeniably a unicorn. It had a chestnut coat spotted with silver, a waterfall of a mane, and golden hooves that stood elegantly on the water like it was solid stone. Its horn was the same color as the sunset, spiraling into the air. Patton swore it glowed. Its reflection certainly did, a silhouette of pure light against the lake.

It was a unicorn. And it was crying, silver tears dripping down its muzzle and splashing into the lake.

Patton took a step forward almost of his own accord.

"Pat—" Janus' voice slipped from anger to nervousness. "Oh, no."

"Hey." Virgil grabbed Patton's arm. "C'mon. No."

Patton shook his head, trying to clear it. "It's a unicorn."

"Yes," Janus agreed, his voice tight. "Turn around and keep walking."

"It's _crying_ , Jan."

"Yes, it's crying, keep _walking_."

The unicorn made a particularly painful wail, kicking at the water with its hooves. Patton realized that a rusty bit of fence was wrapped around one of its legs, digging into the fur and dripping golden blood.

"It's hurt!" Patton exclaimed. "We have to help!"

"Pat," Virgil said, his voice nervous. Too nervous. It was a hurt animal, what was it going to do? "Come on. Keep walking."

"It's hurt," Patton whispered, unable to pry his eyes away.

"This is why you shouldn't have looked!" Janus said in a strangled voice. "Pat, just come with us!"

"It's going to die if I don't help!"

"It's a trap!"

"It's in _pain!_ "

"Let it be in pain!" Janus snatched at Patton's hand and tugged him away from the beach. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that we get to safety."

Patton tore his hand out of Janus' grasp. "You might think so, but I'm not that selfish."

"Pat—"

Before anyone could stop him—before the voice in Patton's head could stop him, because what did it know—Patton raced down the beach.

He hadn't actually thought through what would happen when he hit the water. Fortunately, the lake appeared to be extremely shallow. He could see the smooth pebbles under his feet. He waded forward carefully. There was no drop-off. It was warm, too, and so light around him. It almost didn't feel like water at all.

The unicorn watched him but didn't move away. Maybe it couldn't.

Virgil and Janus were yelling something. Their voices blended together. Patton huffed and ignored them. Janus wanted to be mean? Fine. Patton would just not listen to him.

The unicorn had stopped crying. A few silver tears still slipped from its eyes, though. Patton paused when he was a few feet from the unicorn. It was large, larger than he expected. Patton felt very small. But he still held out a hand and waited to see if the unicorn would let him approach.

It huffed and dipped its head slightly. Patton counted that as a win. He sloshed his way forward—his clothes were all wet, that would be not fun later, but he didn't find himself caring—and placed a hand on the unicorn's flank. It huffed again but didn't move away or kick.

Virgil and Janus kept yelling. Didn't they know they were going to spook the unicorn? It tensed every time they spoke.

"Hey, easy," Patton said in a slow voice. "Ignore them. I just want to help, okay?"

The unicorn dipped its head again, showing its hurt leg. Patton crouched by the leg and started to untangle the wire from its fur. It whinnied in pain. Golden blood dripped onto Patton's fingers, heavier than it should be. The wire sliced into his own skin and his blood mingled with the unicorn's own, red and gold pooling on the silvery surface of the lake.

When the wire was off, Patton coiled it up and slipped it into the pocket of his overalls. The unicorn carefully kicked its leg and whinnied in happiness when it was able to move.

"Great job!" Patton stood up and smiled. "That feels better, right?"

The unicorn tossed its mane in the air and Patton enjoyed the way the chestnut hair gleamed in the sunset. Then with a final whinny, it raced across the lake and disappeared into the trees. Steam rose from the places its hooves touched. Patton smiled to himself. See, that wasn't so bad! And now that nice unicorn could run as much as it wanted. Honestly, why didn't Janus trust people and animals a little more? Not _everyone_ was out to get them—

Patton turned around to walk back to shore and the ground shifted under his feet.

His stomach dropped.

Patton glanced around wildly. Was it an earthquake or something? Or did the pebbles beneath him just fall into a hole? He looked at Virgil and Janus for clues. They were both horror-stricken, staring at something just behind Patton.

Patton whirled. There was nothing there. Just lake and trees.

Wait, nothing? Didn't there used to be an island—

The ground shifted again and it didn't stop shifting. Patton stumbled for balance. All the pebbles were moving, gleaming gray in the water, fitting together—

Not pebbles.

 _Scales_.

Patton didn't swear. But he was suddenly very tempted to let loose a couple f-bombs.

A plume of water dowsed him and he squeezed his eyes shut, falling and scrabbling for purchase on the slippery surface below him—hey, shouldn't he have fallen into water? Why was the water on top of him instead of around him? Why was the whole world moving and shifting? Why were Janus and Virgil screaming?

Okay, he understood that last one.

When the movement stopped, Patton cautiously opened his eyes.

He was seated several feet above the remnants of the lake, which in turn was several feet lower than where it used to be. The beach now led to a small cliff, which Virgil and Janus were at the edge of, Virgil fumbling with his crossbow. Patton ran his hands along the gray scales and dug his fingers into the seams to keep himself from sliding off entirely. Slowly, he looked up.

It was a snake.

Well, technically it was a snake. It had smooth gray scales and wide green eyes and slitted pupils. It had little ridges around its eyes and it coiled around itself in the lake and had a pink tongue that lashed out and tasted the air.

But it didn't seem like a snake. Patton knew snakes as the little ones who hunted mice in the garden or curled up by the stream or Remus used to pull pranks on Roman. Not…not a snake with a tongue as long as Patton, a head bigger than a boulder, eyes like ponds with shimmering green and crackling emerald. Patton held his breath as the tongue darted out and tasted the air again. He shifted slightly but he didn't want to fall off the snake's back.

"Hi," Patton squeaked. Maybe he should have stayed silent, but the snake was staring right at him, so he'd already been noticed. "Um, you're a…a large snake."

The snake hissed slightly.

"Nice to meet you!" Patton smiled and tried to keep his hands from shaking. "How's…how's the weather? U-up there?"

The snake hissed again. Patton tried to clamber to his feet, but the snake shifted its tail and sent Patton plummeting to his knees again. He looked wildly at Virgil and Janus, both of whom looked about to faint. Patton couldn't blame them.

"Well, it's been lovely talking to you," Patton said, trying to scoot down the tail towards the water. "But I'm afraid I have places to be, so we'll have to make a rain date for this—"

The snake opened its mouth. Large fangs unfurled, gleaming and sharp like rapiers, the color of sour milk. Was the snake venomous? Did it matter? If one of those things got anywhere near him, he'd be dead.

Patton inched backwards as the snake moved forwards, lowering its head until it was only a foot or so from Patton. It had pretty bad breath, but that was the least of Patton's concerns. Patton pressed himself as far away from the snake as he could. But behind him was only open air and a long drop to the lake below.

Maybe he should just jump. Maybe-death-by-drowning was better than certain-death-by-giant-snake-monster. _Was_ it certain death? Maybe the snake was nice, but it was very close to him, and it was angling its head in a way that suggested it was figuring out the best place to skewer Patton with a fang—

Patton braced himself and prepared to dive into the lake.

Before he could, the entire snake spasmed.

A crossbow bolt sprouted in its left eye.

The screech of the snake rattled Patton's bones. It tossed its head, trying to dislodge it, blood dripping from its emerald eye and wetting the side of its face. Patton's stomach rolled as he remembered a similar injury on a similar creature. He hated when things got hurt.

But there was no time to think about that. All the tossing was dislodging Patton's grip on the snake's scales. He clung as tightly as he could. A huge shake sent him sliding. He gave up on staying upright and pinched his nose. Closed his eyes.

He fell towards the lake and bubbles exploded around him.

The lake was cool and still. Patton cracked open one eye and saw a dark blue pit around him. So much deeper than the lake had seemed before. The stone walls were patterned with the coils of the snake. Patton was sinking, bubbles streaming from his mouth. He pushed himself up and kicked at the water. Above him was the surface, a fading gold glow. He could make out the snake shaking the blood off and staring at something. Someone.

Virgil!

Patton swam faster. He remembered Roman's tips when they went to the watering hole together—curl your feet, cup your hands, big even strokes. Patton changed swimming styles once, twice, three times. He flailed his arms and tried to find something that would get him to the surface.

The coils nearby, which Patton had done his best to avoid, spasmed again. There was another loud screech. The water around Patton seemed to shake.

And a huge tail whipped out and caught Patton in the ribs.

It was like getting hit by a train. Patton hadn't actually been hit by a train—he'd never even seen one, just heard stories—but he figured this must be what it felt like. It was almost too quick and huge to hurt. But it _did_ hurt. Badly. The air was wrestled from Patton's lungs. He felt like all his internal organs were squashed.

He tumbled towards the wall and managed to stop himself. His glasses floated off his face and he grabbed at them. The only thing he had enough energy to do. He snatched them and put them back on.

He needed to swim up, didn't he? Yeah. Swim. How did he swim? Move his arms. Why wouldn't his arms move? They wouldn't move! Every muscle in Patton's body was screaming. Breathe. Oh, that was the problem. He couldn't breathe. His head was swimming. The snake was here now, head underwater, staring at Patton with glowing green eyes. Ooh, cool, glowy. He needed to _breathe!_ He needed to breathe now! He couldn't—he couldn't, there was water, get out of the water, _swim_ —

There was a splash nearby and a pair of arms circled Patton's chest. Warm. Strong. Snake still stared, not friendly, fangs—Patton was going up. Who was—oh, person! Person was swimming. Patton should swim. He kicked lightly. Shoes. He remembered—no shoes when swimming. But he liked shoes—swim, he had to _swim_ , breathe, _breathe_ —

The world burst into light.

And Patton was tugged to solid ground, coughing violently, struggling to get enough air—he wasn't in the water anymore, so why did it hurt to breathe?

"Run!" someone yelled, and Patton was hauled to his feet again. He tried to complain, but the words weren't coming. He stumbled along, the world shifting around him, someone yelling something but his ears were ringing—

And the hand grabbing his arm let go.

"Are we—" Patton tried his hardest to focus on the voice near him. "We're—it can't—"

"Hey." Someone shook Patton's shoulder. "Hey…Pat, you in there?"

"Don't ya worry! I'm just gonna…" Patton smiled vaguely. "I'm—gonna sleep for—a sec—"

He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

"Pat?"

Patton groaned and tried to remember where he was. He was lying on something hard and leaning against something soft. Everything kind of hurt. Breathing was more difficult than it probably should be. Was he still underwater? No, he was out of the water now. When had he been underwater—right. Snake monster.

Snake monster!

Patton's eyes flew open and he bolted upright. He looked around wildly, only managing to make out a bunch of greenish blurs and a flesh-colored blob near his face.

"Pat!" the blob said, and hands grabbed his shoulders. "Easy!"

"Huh?" Patton blinked but the world didn't resolve into anything coherent. "Is that you?"

"What do you—oh wait. Hold on." There was a rustling, then Patton felt a hand on his face. His glasses fell onto his nose. Oh! His glasses! Patton reached up and adjusted them, watching the world fall into position.

He was sitting down on the path, surrounded by trees. It was dark out, darker than Patton remembered. The whole place was lit by a few sticks burning in a makeshift fire pit. Virgil was hovering over Patton, looking frantic. Patton glanced around for Janus. Janus was sitting near the fire, staring into it. He was soaking wet, his hair plastered to his face and his clothes dripping.

"Are you okay?" Patton asked Janus and Virgil.

"I think we should be asking you that," Virgil said, his voice slightly panicky. "You passed out!"

"I did?" Patton thought back to the last thing he remembered. "Oh. Huh. I passed out."

"Wait, did you get a concussion or something?" Virgil stuck two fingers in the air. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two," Patton said. "What happened?"

"Um." Virgil scratched at the back of his neck. "I shot the snake in the eye. Twice."

"You did?" Patton smiled. "Great job, kiddo!"

"Thanks." Virgil didn't smile back. He was examining Patton's face. "You're sure you're not concussed? Recite the months of the year backward."

"December-November-October—" Patton frowned. "Hold on. If you were shooting the snake, then who—"

Patton's eyes widened and he turned to stare at Janus, who was shivering slightly and glaring at the fire like he wanted to personally murder it.

"You…" Patton paused. "You jumped in after me?"

"No," Janus ground out.

"I, um…" Patton looked back at Virgil, who looked sheepish. "I pushed him in?"

"You what?"

"He pushed me in." If a voice could kill, Janus would be murdering every living creature in a ten-mile radius. "Now I am soggy and cold. If I did not know how to swim, I could have died."

"But you did," Virgil said.

"You didn't know that when you pushed me, did you?"

Virgil shrugged, having the grace to look guilty. "That's fair, but we needed to rescue Pat, and—"

"Save it." Janus shivered again. "Ugh, I'm freezing. I'm going to—"

He pulled off his yellow overshirt and started wringing the water out of it. It splashed on the path and dried almost instantly. Janus twisted the shirt with a vengeance that made Patton inch away just a bit.

"Don't move," Virgil exclaimed, grabbing Patton's hand. "We haven't figured out if you're injured yet!"

"I'm fine, kiddo." Patton pushed himself upright and was proud of himself for only swaying a little. "Thanks for looking after me, and for saving us! That was amazing of you."

"Heh. Yeah." Virgil's cheeks flushed pink a little. "Thanks."

"And…" Patton looked over at Janus and braced himself. "Thank you too, Jan. You didn't have to help, and I appreciate it."

"I didn't want to," Janus snapped, "but he _pushed me into the_ _lake_."

"Yes, yes, and I'm sure he's very sorry." Patton gave Virgil a significant look. Virgil mumbled something that sounded like "Worth it."

"So you're okay," Janus said, looking Patton up and down with an unreadable expression.

"Yep!" Patton gave his best _I'm-okay-and-totally-not-in-pain_ smile. Because he was okay. And totally not in pain. Ugh, had he bruised a rib or something? Every breath made his chest rattle in a probably-not-good way. Hopefully it would get better soon.

Janus watched Patton warily, and Patton prayed he wouldn't ask any direct questions.

"Wonderful, you're not dead. I'd hate to get absolutely soaked for no reason." Janus ran his hands through his hair. "Now that we've got that out of the way…"

Janus stormed up to Patton and jabbed a finger in his chest. "Are you a _complete_ and utter _idiot?_ "

Patton blanched. "Uh—what?"

"I gave you one simple direction." Janus raised a finger. "One. Not a large number. I thought even you could wrap your head around one rule. Apparently I asked too much of you."

"Oh." Patton laughed sheepishly. "I—I mean, I just—"

"I told you not to look!" Janus threw up his hands, snarling. "I told you _not_ to look, and then you _looked_ , and then you went to help some poor helpless creature and almost got yourself _drowned!_ And now _I'm_ covered in water and probably going to contract _hypothermia_ thanks to you, so what _exactly_ do you have to say for yourself?"

"I—" Patton swallowed. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, great, yeah, that fixes everything." Janus clapped a few times. "Wonderful, ten out of ten, a moving testament to humanity, _I almost drowned_."

"He was coughing up water and everything," Virgil added, looking at Janus with an expression that could almost be called concern. "I thought he was going to pass out too. And he won't stop shivering."

"I'm fine," Janus immediately snapped, clenching his jaw.

"You were complaining about hypothermia three seconds ago!" Virgil rolled his eyes. "Seriously, you're in pain until it's no longer convenient for you, what's your _deal_ —"

"Pat," Janus interrupted, staring Patton down, "you're an idiot and I hate you."

"I'm sorry!" Patton pleaded, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I put you all in danger and I'm sorry—"

"Yes, you did." Janus began to wring out his hair. Patton caught flashes of his burn scar and his stomach clenched. "I can't believe I agreed to this. You're going to get us all killed because you won't stop being such a bleeding heart and ignoring what I tell you—"

"The unicorn would have died." Patton swallowed. "It was hurt, and I—I'm sorry, but I don't regret trying to help it—"

"How?" Janus looked close to ripping Patton apart. "Why on earth would you think that was a good idea? I told you it was a trap, there was a snake monster in that lake, you absolute buffoon—"

"Well, I didn't _know_ that." Patton knew he shouldn't be snapping back, but he'd been called an idiot one too many times. "You just said it was a trap. You didn't give any details."

"Is 'it's a trap, don't look' not detailed enough for you?" Janus grinned with no humor. "Or shall I write you an instruction manual?"

"You didn't tell me to ignore the crying." Patton glanced at Virgil for support, and Virgil nodded. "You didn't tell me there would be a unicorn and that said unicorn was a trap! Did you know about the snake? Because I sure didn't!"

"Well, I knew that if I told you, you'd run off anyway!" Janus waved a hand at Patton. "You're all about being the savior of the broken, right? If I said there was a unicorn you'd have plowed into the lake without a second thought!"

"I did that anyway!" Patton yelled. Virgil's eyes widened, but Patton was in no mood to feel bad for raising his voice. He was tired, hungry, in pain, and Janus was being a _jerk_. "I did it anyway because helping is the right thing to do! And I'm sorry it went so badly, but your excuse for not telling me anything is complete bogus."

Janus' eyes flashed. "I don't need you telling me what to do."

"Well, I don't need you treating me like I can't think for myself!" Patton balled his fists. "We are a _team_. Which means we _communicate_. We _listen_ to each other."

"Yeah, because you _absolutely_ listened to me—"

"I would have if you hadn't acted like I'm a _toddler!_ "

That was more than a yell. That was almost a scream. Patton didn't recognize his own voice, didn't recognize the anger in his words. Janus took a small step back, and instead of feeling guilty, Patton felt victorious.

"I am not a smart person," Patton said slowly, resisting the urge to growl. "I am not always going to be a hundred-percent on top of things. But I do have _common sense_. And if you'd told me there was a snake, I would have avoided it. So can you give me the _littlest_ bit of credit here?"

"I'm not going to stand here and be lectured about taking you seriously," Janus spat, "when you're throwing a _temper tantrum_."

"I made a mistake!" Patton yelled, his voice cracking. "A really bad mistake! But—but you made a mistake too, can you please just _admit_ that?"

Janus stared at him for a long moment, the fire casting deep shadows on his face. Then he turned away. "I'm going to dry off my shirt."

Patton opened his mouth to say something and closed it again. He'd run out of burning words and angry thoughts. Now he was just empty and guilty and had a little lump in his throat.

"Jeez, Pat," Virgil said, stepping closer and giving him a sympathetic look. "That was pretty rough."

"Yeah." Patton looked at Janus, who was sitting by the fire again, staring into it. "Well. I'm…I'm gonna go to sleep, okay, kiddo?"

"I'll take watch," Virgil agreed, heading to the edge of the path and carefully grabbing a branch without touching the ground. He walked over and tossed the branch onto the fire. Sparks flew into the air.

"Wait, what?" Patton frowned. "Take watch?"

"Yeah?" Virgil waved a hand at the shadowy forest surrounding them. "I don't want us falling asleep unprotected in here."

"Well, then, I'm keeping watch!" Patton folded his arms. "Go to sleep, kiddo, you need it!"

"You more than me." Virgil tried to gently push Patton to the ground. "C'mon, you were already lying on your sleeping bag, please just sleep. I'm still not sure you're not hurt."

"I don't like this," Patton insisted, despite the ache in his bones screaming for a good long nap. "Can't I—"

"I'll do it."

Patton and Virgil looked over at Janus, who had stood up, stretching in the firelight.

"I need to keep moving anyway," Janus continued, striding around the fire and kicking at the sticks by the edge. "To keep the chill away. And I clearly have better survival instincts than you two. I don't want to get killed in the middle of the night because Pat tried to adopt a selkie or something."

And there came the anger, heated and strong. Patton glared at Janus. "I don't like you."

"Clever retort." Janus chuckled, an infuriating sound that made Patton want to scream. "Don't drown while you're asleep, Pat."

It took all of Patton's willpower to stop himself from flipping Janus off. Instead he snapped "Goodnight" and flumped down on his sleeping bag, curling until his back was facing Janus.

"You on my side yet?" Virgil muttered. "He's a jerk."

"Goodnight, kiddo," was all Patton said in reply.

Virgil sighed and unfolded his own sleeping bag a little way down the path. Patton watched him as he seemed to fall asleep right away, his chest rising and falling in the firelight. Patton didn't want to turn around and let Janus get the satisfaction of seeing Patton watching him, but curiosity made him tilt his head and glance back at the fire. Janus was poking at it with a stick, his pants dripping onto the path.

Patton couldn't help a little plume of guilt. Yeah, Janus was being a real jerk, but he'd also saved Patton's life. If not of his own free will. Maybe Patton shouldn't have snapped at him like that.

It was just…Janus could be so _infuriating_. There was the evil part, of course, and then the dragon part, so obviously he could never be more than Patton's enemy. But sometimes he seemed almost nice, and Patton could almost believe they could be friends. Then he'd be a jerk again! And he'd be such an _annoying_ jerk, with his stupid smile and his stupid sarcasm and his stupid golden voice and stupid yellow eyes, like he was mocking Patton every moment of his life. Maybe Patton was being uncharitable, but Janus was an evil dragon, so it was probably okay to be a little mean.

His mom told him never to go to bed angry. Well, that shouldn't be a problem, since he wasn't planning on sleeping. No nightmares for him! He'd just stay wide awake—without pinching himself—and everything would be a-okay.

Promptly, his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

When he woke up, it was somehow darker. The fire was dwindling. Janus was curled in a ball near it, occasionally shivering but looking a little less drenched than he did before. Virgil snored near Patton's feet. The trees above them creaked and swayed. When Patton closed his eyes, fire seared his eyelids, and his heartrate increased again. He breathed in, out, in, out, matching the rhythm of the wind in the trees.

Okay. No sleeping for a while, then. Not after the nightmare with the—ugh, Patton didn't want to think about it.

Patton glanced at Janus, and irritation gave way to pity. Janus looked very small, his shoulders clenched, glowing dimly against the forest.

"Jan?" Patton whispered.

"Go back to sleep," Janus immediately snapped.

"You should too."

"I have to stand guard." Janus' eyes flickered over Patton, the shadows making his face almost completely unrecognizable. "I'm nocturnal, Pat, I enjoy the night."

"But you didn't sleep during the day." Patton levered himself up and stared Janus down. "Can I please take a turn?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Yes," Patton blurted out, hating everything in the world.

Janus nodded like the problem was solved. "Then sleep."

"I—you're tired too." Patton stumbled to his feet. "And cold. You should…you should sleep."

Janus scoffed. "And leave you in charge? No thank you. At least I can defend myself in case of attack."

Patton gritted his teeth and told himself not to rise to the bait again. "We'll stay on the path and it will be fine. Please, Jan."

Virgil turned over, rubbing his eyes. "Pat?" he asked, voice rough with sleep.

"Go back to sleep, kiddo," Patton said.

"Is there problem?" Virgil slurred.

"No. Go back to sleep."

"Mkay." Virgil rolled over and began to snore again.

"I'm not going to sleep," Patton pleaded, "so can I please just take watch?"

Janus looked at Patton for a long time. Finally he sighed and rolled out his own burlap sleeping bag. "Don't get us killed."

"I won't," Patton promised, sitting next to the dying fire. He grabbed a stick and poked at the embers, trying to get them to flare again. "Sleep well, Jan."

Janus didn't respond, already curled up with his eyes closed. He looked sweet when he was sleeping, his face all relaxed, without the sharp calculating judgement behind his eyes.

Patton tucked his chin in his hands and watched the fire as it started to go out. Maybe he should grab some branches from the trees by the path. But when he looked at the trees, dark and spidery with creaking limbs and pockets of shadows, he shuddered. He'd promised Janus not to get in danger, and he didn't have any faith that he wouldn't trip and fall into a giant spiderweb or something.

He stifled a yawn. His eyes burned with sleep and his ribs still burned with pain. This had not been a good day. He could freely admit that. But tomorrow would be here soon, and tomorrow would be better. He'd apologize to Janus, maybe, and maybe Janus would apologize to him, and they'd make their way through the Woods as a team again.

Virgil was sleeping and Janus was sleeping. Virgil was safe, Janus was safe, and Patton was safe. Yes, Patton had made a mistake—stupid, stupid, why was he always so _stupid_ , why did he put his friends in danger, that was the _opposite_ of helpful—but things were okay now. And there was nowhere to go but up!

The wind was picking up. Patton curled tighter into himself and watched the last of the fire die. Maybe he should just face his fears and try to relight it! It was so cold now. And Janus probably had it worse. A huge gust blew at Patton's back, bringing with it the scent of sap and ozone. Patton looked to the side of the path, lined with several old spoons and a large washing machine, and saw the trees bending and twisting in the wind.

A huge crack made Patton jump and cover his mouth. He looked around. Another crack came, and this time, the entire area lit up.

Lightning.

Okay, being in a forest while there was lightning? Patton was pretty sure that wasn't good. And a forest filled with iron? Which probably conducted lightning? Definitely not good.

Virgil and Janus were awake now. A third clap of thunder roared in Patton's ears.

"Oh, no," Virgil groaned.

Janus just stared up at the sky in disappointment, rolled over, and closed his eyes.

"Do something!" Virgil protested, jumping as another burst of thunder and lightning tore through the sky.

"I can't control the weather." Janus curled into himself. "We'll just have to deal."

Virgil sighed, slipped off his sleeping bag, and pulled it over top of him. "Alright."

Patton looked up at the sky and hoped with all his might that it wouldn't rain. Or that the rain would be blocked by the trees. Or something, anything.

A splash of cold water hit the back of his neck.

And it began to pour, soaking the unlit firewood, soaking Janus' clothes that he'd just managed to dry, soaking Virgil's sleeping bag and the tuft of hair that poked out from under it, soaking the iron around them, soaking the trees that bowed under the weight of the wind. Within seconds, Patton was dripping wet, clothes plastered to his skin and hair flattened against his skull. He could barely see a thing thanks to all the droplets on his glasses, so he took them off with cold, damp hands. Now the world was blurry. Blurry and wet and cold and dangerous.

Thunder rumbled across the sky, and somehow, the rain increased, pounding at Patton's skin and skewering him in place. No chance of relighting that fire now. No chance of lighting a fire until there was dry wood, which there wouldn't be until long after the rain stopped.

Patton tucked his head between his knees and waited for morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> presidential alert: the girls are fighting


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: unsympathetic OC, manipulation, threats, discussing of people as property or prey, compulsion magic, spiders, body horror

He didn't think he could manage to fall asleep like that, but tiredness must have won out. He blinked and it was morning. Or he assumed it was, since it was lighter and the rain had stopped. But he couldn't see much else. Just a whitish blur.

Oh, his glasses! Patton wiped off his glasses and put them on his nose. They slipped slightly on his wet skin, and a few drops of water fell off his eyelashes and ran down them. Patton sighed, wiped at his face with one damp sleeve, and tried again. This time his glasses remained clear. However, the white blur didn't go away. Patton could see himself and a bit of the fire, but not much else.

Was this some kind of trap? Or trick? Had a magical creature snuck up on them while they were sleeping? That would be all Patton's fault, he shouldn't have let himself fall asleep—

"Come on," Janus complained from nearby. Patton whirled and squinted in Janus' direction, and he made out the silhouette of Janus, dark in the swirling whiteness. "Come _on_."

"What?" That was Virgil's voice, on Patton's other side, groggy with sleep. "Why can't I see?"

"They're messing with us." Patton heard rather than saw Janus stand up. "This is another trick from the Woods. Of course they'd do this."

"What's happening?" Patton asked, panic rising in his chest.

"Fog," Janus said simply.

Oh.

"Magic fog?" Patton waved a hand in front of his face. He could barely see it. Fog clung to his whole body, and thanks to the rain from last night, that just made him even more damp. "Or just regular fog?"

"In the Woods, I'm not sure there's a difference." Janus sighed deeply. "It shouldn't harm us. But it will make it exceedingly easy to step off the path without realizing, so we will have to be careful."

"I can be careful!" Patton stood up, stumbled over his feet, and fell back on his butt.

Janus sighed again. "Clearly."

Okay, in Patton's defense, sleeping all curled up on hard ground had clearly done his body no favors. The sharp slice of pain in his lungs had died to a dull ache, but also spread to his arms and legs, so his entire body throbbed like one big purple bruise. And he was still tired, despite getting some sleep last night! Well, he'd missed sleep for the past few nights, so it probably wasn't enough. Still, he'd appreciate it if his eyes stopped complaining about being awake.

"I'm afraid to get up," Virgil said. "I'm really near the edge of the path right now, guys."

"I'm in the middle of it," Patton said, "so follow my voice, okay? You'll be fine."

There was the sound of rustling, a low chant of "Don't-fall-don't-fall-don't-fall," and a figure stepped out of the fog towards Patton. Patton sprung to his feet, stumbled again, and Virgil grabbed Patton's arm to stop him from falling. Patton smiled gratefully at Virgil, who probably couldn't see the smile, since Patton could barely make out the swoosh of Virgil's bangs.

"Let's go, then," Janus said.

"We need to stick together." Patton reached out a hand for Janus. "Come on. Get your stuff and grab my arm."

"You're kidding."

"Look, I don't like it either," Virgil said, "but Pat's got a point. I really don't want to die here? And maybe you'll catch me if I slip."

"Unlikely," Janus muttered, "just so you know."

"Jan!" Patton chided. "If my kiddo, or _anyone_ , starts falling, we catch them. Okay?"

"I make no promises."

Patton huffed and grabbed Janus' hand. Janus immediately froze and tore his fingers from Patton's grasp. Patton was left with a lingering chill on his fingertips and a strange sense of loss.

"Sorry!" Patton squeaked. "I didn't mean to—overstep a boundary, or anything—"

"It's fine." Janus' carefully nonchalant tone said otherwise, but Patton decided not to comment. He didn't feel like another argument today. "I'll be careful. You two stick together, and I'll—"

"But what if you fall?" Patton bit his lip. "Maybe we can all hold on to a string or something? Hold on!"

He reached into his overall pocket, rubbing the little embroidery frog on the outside for good luck, and grabbed the wire he'd untangled from the unicorn. He was lucky that it had stayed in the pocket. Maybe that was where his Fae luck had gone—not keeping him out of danger, making sure a small coil of wire stayed put. Patton wished his luck had better priorities.

"Hold the end of this." Patton extended the wire in Janus' direction.

"What?" Janus asked, staring at it with distaste. "It's dripping blood, Pat."

Patton looked at the wire. Huh. He didn't know unicorn blood glowed like that—it reflected off the fog and cast a dim golden light over Janus' face.

"That's so cool!" Patton squealed.

"Ew," Virgil said. "Please tell me I don't have to touch that."

"Only Jan does, because he's not comfortable with touch." Patton wiggled the wire. "C'mon, Jan, either use this or hold my hand."

Janus sighed. "Unicorn blood it is." He hesitantly placed his hand on the wire and curled his fingers around it. Patton noticed a slight shudder when a droplet of blood hit his hand.

"You can always—" Patton started to say.

"I'm not touching you."

"Fair," Patton admitted. He grabbed his knapsack and rolled up his blanket, and Virgil did the same. They kept their hands intertwined the whole time. Patton didn't want to let go of Virgil's hand for even a second. It was warm and soft and kept him grounded in the chilly wet wonderland around them.

"Lead the way?" Patton asked, straightening and wrapping the wire around his wrist so it wouldn't fall off.

Janus gave another sigh that Patton was surprised didn't dispel the fog entirely. "Fine."

Janus inched forward. Patton followed and Virgil came last. Each step was hesitant. The ground beneath them was slippery from the rain. The fog was lifting slightly, enough that Patton could see the vague outlines of trees, a slightly darker gray than the rest of the whitish-gray around him. He could see Virgil's hand and sleeve clearly, and could make out Janus' narrowed yellow eyes and Virgil chewing on his lip. He could even see a dim white disk that he assumed was the sun, higher in the sky than he expected. Had they slept in and lost time? That wasn't good.

And even though the fog was slowly disappearing, it wasn't doing it nearly fast enough.

"How long until the fog is gone?" Patton asked Janus.

"How should I know?" was Janus' response. Snippy, but Patton shouldn't have expected anything more. They'd spent last night fighting, after all.

"Sorry," Patton said quietly, almost hoping that Janus wouldn't hear. The wire jerked slightly as Janus paused, looking back at Patton. The fog obscured his face.

"Hurry up," Janus finally said, walking again. "But not too much. Try sliding your feet instead of picking them up—that decreases the likelihood of slipping on uneven terrain."

Patton tried sliding his feet. It felt like ice skating, skimming his way across the mud. Janus was right—it did work better.

"Thanks," Patton said, even quieter.

Janus didn't respond.

"Pat?" Virgil whispered.

"Yeah, kiddo?" Patton squeezed Virgil's hand. "What's up?"

"I—" Virgil was clearly staring at his feet for more reasons than balance. "Sorry I didn't, um, back you up. Last night. Arguing freaks me out a bit, and—yeah."

"It's no problem." Patton tried to send Virgil a warm smile through the fog. "You don't need to intervene on my behalf, kiddo! Nobody needs to be the peacemaker all the time, and you shouldn't take responsibility for our actions."

Ahead of them, Janus made a huff that could have been a laugh, a snort, or a growl.

"What?" Virgil asked, and Patton could hear the walls slamming down around him.

"Nothing," Janus said lightly. "Arguing 'freaks you out?' You haven't had a problem with it before now."

"Well, give yourself a pat on the back," Virgil snapped. "You get me angry enough to forget my anxiety, and trust me, that's an accomplishment."

"Why, thank you!" Janus pressed a hand to his chest. "I do try, you know."

"Okay, okay! Guys!" Patton saw where this was going. He ran his thumb over Virgil's hand and tugged gently on the wire connecting him to Janus. "No fighting. Actually, no talking either. We need to focus on walking right now. Can you be quiet for a little while?"

"From past experience, it's you who would have trouble staying quiet," Janus murmured. Patton couldn't see his smirk, but he knew it was there, glowing and gleaming and infuriatingly evil.

Virgil stepped forward. "You—"

Patton tightened his grip on Virgil's hand. "Focus, kiddo."

"Right. Right." Virgil sighed. "Sorry, Pat."

"Oh, good thing your best friend is here! I'm saved!" Janus pushed aside a wet branch and let it swing back and hit Virgil in the face. "Imagine what you could get up to if you weren't on Pat's leash."

Virgil threw up his free hand and presumably flipped Janus off. Patton decided if he couldn't really see what the gesture was, he didn't need to chide Virgil about it. Because honestly, he felt a few sharp words away from doing the same thing.

But Janus stayed silent after that, apart from a few muttered warnings of "Rock ahead" or "Hole in the path to your right." About twenty minutes, he paused and instructed all of them to tilt their feet a bit to the left, since the path was starting to slope upwards and they didn't want to fall. Patton could almost believe Janus was looking out for them. Then he remembered Janus was probably planning to betray them. If he wanted revenge, he'd want to do it himself after he arrived home, not just let them get eaten by trees.

The path was sloping upwards more. Janus was starting to report more and more rocks. Patton found himself almost on his knees, crawling around huge boulders. In some places, the path was barely narrow enough for one person, so Patton had to let go of Virgil and Janus to claw his way through. He always held tighter to Virgil's hand after that. Without it, and the wire tied around his other wrist like a bracelet, he felt alone and unmoored in a sea of white fog.

The fog continued to rise, slowly but surely, and Patton began to make out more details. Virgil's hair was sticking up in the back, and Janus' was starting to grow ropy from not being brushed. Both of them were dirty, but Janus' clothes especially were wrinkled and dulled, probably from the water. When Patton made eye contact with Virgil, he saw rings under Virgil's eyes and a little nick on his cheek. When Patton made eye contact with Janus, a much rarer occasion, he saw one yellow eye, one pale cheekbone, and a smirking mouth. The other half of Janus' face—the burned half—was still hidden under his hair.

Patton crawled over a boulder, slick with rainwater, and found himself unable to push himself back upright. For a second, he closed his eyes and let himself succumb to the weary ache of his bones. Then Virgil made a concerned noise and Patton was reminded of why he had to keep moving. He stumbled to his feet, and except for a heart-stopping moment when his foot slipped on a rock, he didn't fall.

Then the path leveled out. Patton breathed a sigh of relief. "Jan," he called, "any more big inclines?"

"None that I can see," Janus said, but his voice was distant. "What _is_ that?"

"Unidentified thing?" Virgil asked, his voice already growing panicky. "I don't like unidentified things in creepy forests! Please identify it!"

Patton squinted into the fog. He thought he saw what Janus was referring to—a strip of darkness just above the path ahead of them. "I dunno, kiddo."

"I'm not sure we should approach it." Janus stepped backwards, clutching the wire and making it vibrate around Patton's wrist. "It could be anything."

"I don't like this." Virgil let go of Patton's hand and grabbed his crossbow. "Giant snakes are a thing here. So it could be a giant snake. Or—or a giant squirrel, or a giant badger, or—"

"It's okay, kiddo, calm down." Patton placed a hand on Virgil's arm. Touch helped ground Virgil—and Patton, right now, wanted to stay as closely connected to Virgil as possible. "It's not moving."

"I'm going to check it out," Janus said, sliding the end of the wire into Patton's hand with a sweep of cold fingers. "If I die, say I died doing what I loved—saving your lives yet again with no tangible reward."

"Thank you," Patton called after him as he walked slowly towards the unidentified thing. "We appreciate it!"

"Save it for my gravestone." Janus had almost disappeared into the fog by now, just a gray silhouette against the gray silhouette of the other thing. Patton ran his fingers along the strip of wire and swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest.

"It's…" Janus turned around. "False alarm. A tree fell on the path."

"A tree." Virgil didn't sound placated. "Like, an evil tree? Is it alive? Will it eat us?"

"It's a tree." Janus shifted and the sound of knocking echoed through the Woods. "See, normal wood tree. The storm must have blown it over."

"Well, that's good, I was worried it was something dangerous." Patton tugged Virgil along toward the tree. Sure enough, as he got closer, he saw that a large elm had fallen across the path. All the branches were far on the other side, leaving only a strip of trunk in their way. It was just a little bit above the path, resting on an empty cooking pot and a few bushes. Patton reached out and touched it, running his hands along the iron embedded in the bark.

"Be careful while you climb over," Janus said, grabbing one ridge of bark and trying to lever himself up. He slipped and fell to the ground. The mud squelched as he landed, sticking to his shirt.

"Ugh," Janus muttered, trying to wipe off his shirt. Globs of mud fell to the ground.

Virgil snickered. "The mighty dragon, destroyer of villages, falls to his mortal enemy. A tree trunk."

Janus glared at Virgil. "You try it. It's almost as tall as you."

"Fine." Virgil reached as high as he could and hooked his hands around the top of the tree. Then he kicked at the trunk and scrambled for a footing in the middle. His elbow banged the tree, his knee scraped along the edge, and Virgil fell back onto the path.

"Not so easy, is it?" Janus asked, chucking a handful of mud at Virgil. Virgil dodged the mud and sprang to his feet, brushing off his knees.

"We just need to be practical about this," Patton said, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated. "Logan would say we need a plan. So let's get a plan! No more falling off the trunk, okay? You could end up off the path."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "Fine. As much as it's entertaining to watch Jan fail, we probably do want an actual plan."

"Thanks, V." Janus rose to his feet, running a hand along the trunk and eyeing it. "I'm the tallest, so I can try and get up first, then help you two—"

"Be careful!" Patton yelled as Janus reached out. "That bark's slippery, and who knows what'll happen if you go off the path—"

"Oh, _you're_ lecturing me about safety?" Janus slipped on the trunk and landed back on the ground. "You're the only one who's ever stepped off the path! Virgil and I are still innocent."

"The day's still young."

Patton whirled to chide Virgil for being so defeatist—because Janus was more of a problem, but Janus was also very resistant to Patton's usual persuasive methods of puppy-dog eyes and kindness, so he couldn't do much about Janus. Then he realized.

Virgil hadn't spoken.

Patton looked back at the tree trunk.

There was a young woman sitting on it who definitely hadn't been there a second ago.

Despite the fog, Patton could see her clearly. He could see every curl of her long auburn hair, the tips of the stick crown woven above her brow, and the tuck of each layer of her intricate white robes. Her pale skin was only marred by a few strips of black. She was lounging on the tree trunk like it was the most comfortable place she'd ever been. There was a smirk on her face that reminded Patton of Janus. But Janus was evil and non-threatening, a minor nuisance. He had a feeling this woman was definitely not just a nuisance.

And okay, Patton wasn't really attracted to girls, but aesthetically? She was beautiful. Every feature was chiseled and petite, from her slim, freckled hands to her pointed nose to her thin lips to her deep silver eyes. But even though every feature individually would be enough to make less-gay guys swoon, together? Together, it was frightening. It was just left from human, a little too perfect for comfort. Patton could stare at her forever. But he also felt an itch all over his skin that told him _wrong. Get away. Not safe_.

Patton swallowed.

Magical powers? Check, if appearing on a tree was any proof. Ethereal beauty? Check. Suitable habitat? Check. A creeping feeling of unease? Check. An even more creeping feeling of being in the presence of something ancient, all-seeing, with more power in their little finger than in all of Patton's body? Definitely check.

Pointed ears? Check.

"No." Janus' face had gone white with horror. "Oh, no."

"That's very rude of you," the Faerie remarked, frowning. Even when she frowned, there was no crease between her eyebrows, no blemish on her skin. "I just wanted to say hello! We get humans so rarely in these parts—I hardly ever get anyone to play with." She pinched something in the air and a line of fog crystallized into a strand of spider silk. A little black spider popped into existence by her hand, the size of a gumdrop, and scurried across the line to her other hand, where it bled into her fingers and vanished.

"You're a Faerie," Patton said, all politeness gone from his head. "Like, an actual Faerie."

"No. No, no, no." Janus glanced back at Patton, his eyes wide. "We need to leave _now_."

"Leave where?" Virgil asked, his voice strangled. "She's blocking the path!"

"Yes, the storm was so kind to drop me this little present." The Faerie patted the tree. "I hardly ever get to visit people on the path! I have to wait for them to leave it, which can be quite tedious."

"What do you want?" Patton blurted out.

"Conversation!" She looked offended. "What, did you think I would attack you? I would never attempt such a thing now."

"It's 'cause she can't reach us," Janus muttered. "If she could, she'd attack us."

"You think so little of me." The Faerie swung one leg down and kicked it back and forth, carefully avoiding touching the path. "I mean you no harm! I just get lonely. All I can do is talk to the other Fae, and frankly, they're bores."

"Great." Virgil's angry voice didn't match the clammy hand that squeezed Patton's. "We've talked. Can we go now?"

"Oh, yes! Feel free!" The Faerie scooted to the left. "Just walk up here and be on your way. I won't stop you."

Patton looked at Janus, who shook his head. Yeah. That didn't seem like a good idea.

"Leave," Janus ordered. "You have nothing to gain from staying here."

"Oh, I disagree," she said with a smirk. "If you want to leave, you may. But I'm staying."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. The Faerie summoned another batch of spiders, which Patton tried not to scream at, and let them crawl along her arm in little rows. Patton noticed she hissed every time they touched one of the black marks on her skin.

"Okay," Janus finally said after several minutes had passed. "This isn't working."

"I could do this all day." The Faerie flipped her sleeve up and the spiders vanished. "All week, all year, all century. I'm patient."

"Well, we don't _have_ a century." Virgil looked at Patton. "So what now?"

Patton turned to look at Janus.

"Why me?" Janus asked.

"Since you're apparently the only smart one here," Patton said chirpily, "why don't you think of a plan?"

"Outwitting opponents hinges on figuring out what they want from you." Janus waved a hand at the Fae. "I have no idea what she wants."

"I said before," the Faerie said, laughing at some inside joke. "I want to say hello."

"That's the truth," Virgil said. "It has to be. Fae can't lie."

Patton's stomach did an uncomfortable little twisty motion. "Yes, but they can be deliberately vague, misleading, or ridiculously specific."

"What?"

"Conversation." Patton tried to meet the Faerie's eyes and immediately thought better of it, staring at her hands instead. "Vague. Let's try a different question, okay?" Patton pieced the sentence together in his head before he spoke it, thinking of the most frustratingly direct question he could. The kind that would make him groan.

"What are all the things you want to gain from talking with us?"

"Conversation," the Faerie repeated. If she was compelled to share the answer, her face betrayed no sign of annoyance or pain. "And your names."

"Oh." Virgil glared at her. "Well, fat chance."

"I just want to get to know you better!" the Faerie protested. A half-truth, easier to do when not met with a direct question. "There are hardly ever people in these Woods." Truth. "A name is a window to the soul." Truth. "I would never dream of harming you with it." Truth? No, it could definitely be a lie. Maybe she'd never dream of doing that, but she'd actually do it if the situation occurred. Wait, Fae couldn't dream at all. The word choice was deliberately misleading.

Wow. Patton's years of being unable to lie were actually helping him out here.

The Faerie's eyes locked onto him like she could read every word in his mind.

"Hello there," the Faerie said. "I didn't notice at first. Nice to meet you, little Fae."

Patton's mouth dropped open. "Um. I'm not actually—I—"

"No," the Faerie agreed, "not entirely. But enough. A little Fae blood is enough to be a Fae." Her expression wasn't smug anymore. It was a sort of condescending kindness, like from an older aunt who always pinched your cheeks. "How are you enjoying the Woods, little Fae?"

"Not at all," Patton admitted. "They're not fun."

The Faerie laughed a bit, the sound of crumbling leaves. "I suppose I'm partially to blame for that. I apologize about the trap. It was the easiest way to find out what you were made of."

Janus gave Patton a significant look. Probably 'look, this is what happens when you step off the path, you get trapped by creepy fair folk.' Patton stuck his tongue out at him. Janus stuck his tongue out in return.

"And what did I find?" The Faerie clapped her hands and laughed. "I thought you were strange enough when it was two humans traveling with a _dragon_. But a little Fae as well? Human, dragon, and Fae, all working together." Her smile widened. "I'm surprised you haven't killed each other yet."

Virgil grimaced. "Trust me, we got close."

"I heard." The Faerie summoned a little spider on the tip of her nose. "You scared my spiderlings with all your yelling."

"Oh." Patton felt he should apologize, but if it scared spiders, he wasn't very sorry. "Um, didn't mean to."

"It's quite alright. I learned some interesting things!" The Faerie pointed at Janus. "They call you Jan or snake. You're a dragon, and you're injured, and you're not very nice most of the time, and you don't like getting wet."

"How is that interesting?" Janus asked, but Patton had seen him flinch on the word "injured."

"You're V." The Faerie turned to Virgil, who looked torn between ripping her face off and hiding. "Good with a crossbow, slightly more nice but still not very nice, ridiculously close to Pat."

"We're friends," Patton said, feeling the urge to defend them.

"I know." The Faerie waved a hand. "And then there's Pat. I thought I had a read on you—naïve, a little stupid, good-hearted, cheerful, self-sacrificing—but part Fae? That changes _everything_."

"Um." Patton couldn't explain why that made him feel uncomfortable. But it did. "I…I don't think anything's changed, really."

"Disagree." The Faerie tilted her head. "So, little Fae. What can you do?"

"Be lucky," Patton said.

"Any other little gifts from your family?"

"I can't lie," Patton blurted out, "and they're not my family!"

"You're descended from them," the Faerie said. "That makes them your family."

Patton folded his arms. "Family is who we choose."

The Faerie raised one eyebrow. Patton couldn't tell if she was impressed or disdainful. Either could be the case.

"Moving on," she finally said, "you say you can't lie?"

Something froze in Patton's chest. Still, he quietly said "Yes."

"Hmm. I'll start with you, then?" The Faerie leaned forward. Maybe this was what flies felt like when trapped in a spiderweb.

The Faerie grinned. "Little Fae, what's your name?"

Patton slammed his mouth shut. Janus and Virgil stared at him in horror. Patton bit his lip, his tongue, his cheek. It was a direct question, addressed to him, simple and quick. It was knowledge Patton had at the tip of his tongue. There was no room for hedging or deceiving. Just one little question with one little answer.

_Never give them your name._

But his throat was already burning, and he was tired, and he knew as soon as he let his guard down the word would slip from his lips.

A hand slammed over his mouth. A cold hand, still a little wet from the rain, a bit of golden blood around the fingers.

Patton looked over at Janus, whose face was stony. He had a feeling he'd be yelled at for this later.

Even with the hand blocking him, though, letters still crowded at the edge of Patton's mouth. It really hurt now. It itched and pulsed and shuddered under his skin. The unspoken name seemed to balloon and fill up his whole body, shaking and scratching at his arms and legs, begging to be let loose. He'd never held it in this long before, and he was tired, and his chest was sore, and he could already feel tears welling up in his eyes.

"You still have to say it," Janus said. Not a question. Patton nodded.

Janus glanced at the Faerie, who was watching the proceedings with a carefully schooled neutral expression. But Patton saw the gleam in her eyes.

"Run." Virgil tugged Patton's hand and dragged him along the path.

"Where are we going?" Janus asked, who had followed without question.

"Away from her, so Pat can just spit the name out without her hearing."

"Oh, I hear everything!" the Faerie called after them. "If it reaches the Woods, it reaches me."

Patton almost sobbed in desperation. This was so stupid, he was so _stupid_ , why couldn't he just _lie_ for once in his life—

Janus' thumb reached out and ran over Patton's cheek. It was a cold, damp thumb. It shouldn't have been comforting. But in a weird way, it was. His whole hand was comforting, cupping Patton's chin, pressed against his lips.

"Tell me," Janus said, slowing down. "Tell me, and I'll tell her. Whisper it in my ear. I promise I'll relay the message."

Patton paused, Janus' hand still cupped around his mouth, trying to decipher what Janus was saying. Janus wouldn't actually tell Patton's name—no. He was just giving Patton an excuse to tell _him_ instead. He was bending the rules, and for once, Patton was grateful for it.

Patton nodded jerkily, still holding back tears and words. Janus' hand quickly disappeared from Patton's face and he grabbed Patton's arm, helping Patton lean in. Patton cupped his shaking hands around his mouth and leaned towards Janus' ear. He had a wild memory of gossiping kids back in town, playing games of Telephone or saying who had a crush on who. He'd have laughed, if he wasn't so close to crying.

"Patton," he breathed into Janus' ear, barely louder than the wind. And for a second, he was afraid it wouldn't work. It wouldn't count.

Then the pressure within him lifted. He sagged as the tingling pain left his mouth and the straining of the words disappeared. Janus snaked one arm around his waist and held him up.

"Better?" Janus asked.

"Yeah."

Virgil peeled Patton off Janus' arm and looked him over. "You okay?"

"I think so." Patton stared at his feet. "Sorry, I—I've never held it in that long before."

"It's fine." Virgil glanced at the Faerie. "So what now?"

"We have to get past her," Janus said.

"But I'm not going anywhere near her." Patton crossed his arms. "End of story."

"There's definitely no telling what she could do if she got us off the path." Janus, for the first time, looked unsure. "I—I don't know what to do."

"Wait." Virgil bit his lip, eyes narrowed in concentration. "She's only here because that tree fell, right? So if we can get the tree off the path, or break it, she can't get us."

"Yes, let's break a huge tree trunk." Janus flexed his arm. "Look at these muscles, I can absolutely manage that."

"You can't." Virgil nodded. "Not…not in human form, at least."

Janus' eyes widened. " _You're_ suggesting I transform?"

"Look, snake, I'd rather not die or spend the rest of my life serving some weird Fae lady!" Virgil growled. "If you have a better plan, I'd love to hear it!"

Patton looked down the path at the Faerie. He realized he could see her. The fog was almost entirely gone. Her auburn hair gleamed in the morning sun. Even from here, Patton swore he could see her smirk.

"He's right," Patton said. "If you can break that tree, she'll have to leave."

"Okay, then." Janus looked wary. "So I just walk over there and transform?"

"We'll be with you." Patton paused and waved a hand. "Just, not too close."

"Understood." Janus glanced at Virgil, who motioned impatiently to the Fae. He took a step forward, and Patton and Virgil followed. Slowly they walked back to the Fae. It felt like walking towards their execution.

"I heard your plan," the Faerie said. "It's not bad, I have to admit."

"It doesn't matter if you heard it," Virgil said, staring her down. "There's nothing you can do to stop it. You can't hurt us on the path."

"I can't," the Faerie agreed. She pointed at Janus. "But Janus can."

Patton glanced at Janus. "He wouldn't. I know that, and you know that."

"Do we know that?" Virgil muttered, and Patton gave Virgil an annoyed look. He turned to apologize to Janus for Virgil's rude behavior.

But Janus didn't seem bothered. He didn't even seem to have heard. His mouth was hanging open, his face was blank, and his eyes were trained on the Faerie.

Finally he whispered "You know my name."

"What?" Patton started to laugh in confusion. Then the laugh died in his throat. His heart skipped a beat, then another beat, then another. He looked around wildly for some sign this was a joke. No. The Faerie was smiling and Janus looked like he'd been smacked in the chest by a snake's tail.

"How do you know his name?" Virgil demanded.

"Well, thanks to you two, of course!" The Faerie hopped to her feet and leaned forward into a handstand, kicking one leg up in the air. She adopted a vaguely cheerful expression that Patton assumed was supposed to be him. "No, no, hear me out! Janus can turn into a dragon and bite the branch to get me down!"

Patton was struggling to breathe. He was pretty sure he'd known how to breathe a few seconds ago, but now? Nothing. His whole mouth was dry. He rubbed at the coil of wire in his fingers, wishing Virgil hadn't let go of his hand.

"Thanks a lot, Pat," Janus hissed, but he barely looked mad. What he did look like was _terrified_. Patton had seen Janus scared before, of course—but he'd never seen Janus like _this_. Like he was afraid to speak.

"I'm sorry," Patton whispered. He knew it was barely enough. And he knew he'd feel guilty about this. Later. Right now there was no room for guilt. There was just mounting terror.

"Then, of course," the Faerie said, hopping into a sitting position and poking at an imaginary something. Her glower matched Virgil's exactly. Patton glanced at Virgil. Yep, the same exact glower.

"I should clean this first, actually," she said, dipping her voice lower in a lackluster imitation of Virgil's gravely tone. "Janus? Canteen?"

Janus flinched when his name was said. Violently flinched. Virgil flinched too, an emotion shooting across his face. Guilt, Patton might have called it. Fear. But in a second it was gone, replaced by anger.

"You weren't careful," the Faerie said, dropping her Virgil impression and lounging on the branch. "And now you have to pay for that. Janus. _Janus_. It's a nice name, I'll enjoy using it."

"Leave him alone," Virgil spat, "or I will personally put a bolt through your skull. They're iron. Probably not good for you."

The Faerie barely looked bothered. "Janus, be a dear and grab his crossbow, will you?"

Janus scoffed, a little bit of his old thunder returning. "Yeah, like I'm going to listen to someone who's trying to kill us—"

"Uh, snake?" Virgil waved his empty hands. "You just grabbed my crossbow."

"I did?" Janus looked down at the crossbow he was holding. His brief defiance was replaced by terror again. "Why did you—I can't move my arms—V, take your crossbow back!"

Virgil reached for the crossbow. Janus punched him in the shoulder. Hard, if the way Virgil winced was any indication. Patton ran forward and pulled Virgil away.

"I didn't mean to do that." Janus' eyes were wide. "I didn't—"

"Oh, could you stop with the freaking out? You're under my control now, yadda yadda so sad, shut your mouth, okay?" The Faerie snapped a finger and Janus' hand slapped over his own mouth. "There we go. Some peace and quiet." She leaned towards Virgil confidentially. "Bet you wish I could have done this sooner, right?"

Virgil bared his teeth. "Let. Him. Go."

"Ooh, feisty!" The Faerie waggled her fingers. "And why do you care? From what I've gathered, you hate his guts."

"Fair," Virgil admitted, "but we kind of need him to survive, so."

Patton felt he should probably interrupt here. He should probably say something about how Janus was still their friend and that they didn't want him to die. That even though Janus was annoying, having him silenced was just _wrong_. Patton _hated_ this. Janus was unnaturally quiet, looking almost on the verge of tears, his own hand covering his mouth. Not the gentle way he'd covered Patton's, either. Rough enough to cause bruises. His eyes were so scared. And Patton couldn't blame him.

But all the feelings inside Patton refused to shake themselves into words. Even if he found words, they wouldn't _do_ anything. He was powerless. If the Faerie turned Janus on them, Patton wouldn't be able to win. He'd seen Janus in action. Even if Janus was injured, he could burn them to ashes in seconds.

Janus was going to kill them, after all. Just not in the way Patton had expected.

They could turn around right now. Go home, leave Janus behind, stay safe.

Patton barely considered it. _Not_ an option. They still needed to rescue Logan and Remus. And Janus…Janus might be evil, but no one deserved to stay in the Woods forever. They had to try to help him. Patton had no idea how, but surely there was a way!

Virgil must have been thinking the same thing, because he said, "Tell us how we can get him back."

"What's the magic word?"

A muscle jumped in Virgil's jaw. Finally he ground out "Please."

"So kind! And they say chivalry is dead." The Faerie clapped her hands. "There isn't a way! His name is mine and I can't unlearn it. Once you give your name to a Fae, it's theirs forever. Don't you know that?"

"But—" Virgil's voice was starting to raise in desperation. "But you _can't!_ You can't just _do_ that!"

"Can, would, and did." The Faerie waved a few fingers. "Now either run along or climb over this trunk and be on your way! Unless you wish to give me your names too, in case by all means, stick around."

Virgil glanced at Patton. Patton adamantly shook his head. Both of those options sounded like bad ideas.

"Well, what's your choice?" the Faerie asked, looking over at Patton. "You've been awfully quiet, little Fae. Spiders in your throat?"

Patton instinctively grabbed at his throat and swallowed. No spiders. "I—" He shook his head violently, trying to shake his thoughts into position. Now that all attention was on him, he felt the itch of an idea in the back of his mind. But it refused to come into the light. He was left only with a few puzzle pieces— _little Fae, theirs forever, wire in his hand—_ and no idea of how to connect them. He felt like he was missing something. A solution was staring him in the eyes. Plain as the nose on his face. He felt he could reach out and _tug_ the whole world a few inches to the left, and everything would settle into place, clear as day.

"If you're just going to stand there, I hope you won't mind if I experiment with my newest catch?" The Faerie curled one finger and Janus dropped the crossbow on the path. Virgil didn't even bother to try and grab it. He probably knew it was fruitless.

"I've never played with a dragon before," the Faerie said idly, spinning a finger in midair. "This should be entertaining."

"Wait," Patton blurted out, praying that everything would make sense in a few seconds. He'd been given a moment of respite, everyone turning to stare at him, he had to piece things together—ugh, couldn't his Fae blood make him lucky and help him figure it out—

Fae blood.

"Fae blood," Patton repeated out loud, barely daring to hope. Everything was crashing into position. But it was strung together by _hope_ , and if it was wrong, they were dead.

"I have Fae blood," Patton said, staring at his feet and fidgeting with the wire in his hands. "And…and you said that makes me a Faerie. Technically."

"Yes?" The Faerie's confusion was audible. Oh no, did that mean this wasn't going to work? Well, there were no other options, and there was no turning back. "Are you going to assist me with the murder and/or subjugation of your friends? Because—"

"No!" Patton exclaimed, nervousness shunted aside in favor of indignation. "No, of course not! Oh my gosh, that's awful!"

"Worth a shot," the Faerie said. "So…"

"So." Patton summoned all of his courage and looked the Faerie dead in the eyes. "If I'm a Faerie, and Janus told me his name _before_ you learned it…"

For a second, there was silence. Then the Faerie's expression, briefly, twitched. And Patton spotted apprehension. Fear.

A smile spread across Patton's face. "I'm right. You know I'm right."

"That's ridiculous." The Faerie waved a hand. "I own his name, there is no—"

"No, you don't." Patton took a step forward. "I do. He gave me his name in the Rotunda, which means he's _mine_. Fae rules. You said it yourself—you don't get to lay a finger on him."

"I—" The Faerie huffed. "You really think you can defy _me?_ I have more power than you could ever _dream_ of. You have _three_ drops of Fae blood, I have oceans-full. I have your little friend strung up like a puppet and I could make him dance off a cliff with a wave of my hand. You are just a puny little boy with no common sense. I can and will _crush_ you like the _bug_ that you are."

"You're threatening me." Patton smiled even wider. "That means you're scared, doesn't it? You're like Virgil, he always pretends to be angry when he's scared. And Janus gets defensive when he's threatened."

"You're such a fool!" The Faerie snarled at him. "You openly defy a member of the Faerie Court! And you just told me your other friend's name!"

"But you can't do anything about it." Patton walked up to the Faerie until there was only an inch between them. He could reach out and touch her hand if he wanted. It looked cold like china. "Can you?"

The Faerie lunged at him.

Patton grabbed her hand and wrapped the iron wire around her wrist.

He expected the spasm of pain. He didn't expect the muffled scream as the Faerie tried to tear her hand from his grasp. Black marks formed on her wrist and green tears swelled in her eyes. Patton held firm.

"You're hurting me," the Faerie said, her slippery tone ragged and raspy. "I thought you hated that."

"I do." He did, he really did, every wince of pain shot right through his heart and made the lump in his throat grow bigger. "But you hurt my friends."

"Let me go!"

"Only when you agree that I own them. And you have to leave us alone."

The Faerie twisted her wrist. Patton hung on. The wire sliced through his fingertips and he began to bleed a little. But he held on tight. The blood splashed to the path. Patton wondered if it was Fae blood or human blood. Was there a difference? Was it all bound up inside of him, unable to be separated?

Patton glanced back at Janus. Janus had lowered his hand from his mouth. Was it because the Faerie was focused on the wire, or because she had lost control over him? Patton really, really hoped it was the second one.

A yell turned his attention to the Faerie. Her eyes were blackening and her skin seemed to pale even more, until it was the same color as bone china, a newly-washed sheet, crisp ice. She opened her mouth and Patton saw long, jagged teeth and a dark cave of a mouth. He couldn't believe he ever thought she was beautiful. Her bones were lengthening and grinding together, her auburn hair fading into gray, her robes hanging off her skin like spiderwebs.

Something rustled in her mouth.

And a small spider crawled out.

Patton shivered as the spider scurried down her cheek and made its way down her arm. His fingers itched to pull away. But he couldn't. He _wouldn't_. He braced himself.

Little legs on his arm. Eight of them. Scuttling up his skin to his shirt. Creepy crawly death dealer. No. Bad. Stop it.

Patton shuddered and fought back a whimper. He had to get through this. For Janus, Virgil, Logan, Remus. He could handle one spider.

Another rustling noise. Louder this time.

And a hundred spiders burst from the Faerie's mouth, pouring down her chest like a wave of little black dots. Patton's heart stopped in horror. They were a teeming mass. A carpet of little legs and beady eyes and clicking pincers.

It took less than a second for them to reach Patton. They covered him from head to toe. His clothes swam with black gumdrops and twitching legs. Ew. Ew, ew, ew—he closed his eyes, but he could still feel them. He felt them tickling his skin. He felt a few experimental nibbles. He felt the wire in his hand, trembling but firm, and he tightened his grip. Spiders. Spiders were bad. Very bad. But he had to hold on, keep the Faerie in check, keep everyone safe.

"Does that scare you?" asked a voice that must have been the Faerie. It was nothing like how she used to sound. It was the creak of an old iron gate, the growl of a hunter as it pounced. "Are you scared, little Fae? Spiders love to eat kids like you. They sneak into their mouth and nose and ears and eyes."

Patton clenched his mouth shut. A few spiders tapped at the skin under his eyes. He squeezed his eyelids tighter. He had a feeling that wouldn't stop the spiders.

"Are you scared?" the Faerie repeated. The spiders were slipping under his skin, squeezing between his bones, tickling in his rib cage. He felt them rustle in his lungs as he breathed. He felt little bites on his eyes.

Patton wanted to scream. He wanted to answer her question with _yes, stop, please stop_. But if he opened his mouth, it might let the spiders in. Or out. He didn't know which, didn't know if he was imagining all the spiders in his head, but he didn't want to open his eyes and find out.

Hold on to the wire, hold on to the wire, hold on to the—

"I want an answer." Suddenly the spiders were gone. Patton held his breath, waiting for the hammer to fall, the spider to burst from his blood stream or bubble up under his hands. Instead there was silence. Blessed silence. No spiders. No little legs. Nothing.

"Look at me!" the Faerie ordered. Patton did. She looked just like she used to, auburn hair and impeccable skin and little marks where iron had burned her. But her eyes still burned with a ruthless fire.

"I'm not scared," Patton said, and found it was the truth. "I could do this all day."

The Faerie stared at him, eyes prying into his pupils, sorting through his chest and rifling through his brain and digging her thin hands into his heart.

Patton stared right back, keeping his fingers tight around the wire.

"Fine." The Faerie leaned back, suddenly looking like she'd lost a checkers game instead of a plaything. "Have it your way. I hope you have fun on the peak, and try not to fall."

Patton didn't know what that meant. But it sounded foreboding.

"I'll see you soon, then?" The Faerie smiled. "When you need me, you'll know what to do."

Patton opened his mouth to protest that he would never ever need someone who tried to hurt his friends. But nobody was there to yell at. The Faerie had been whisked away by the wind. The wire dropped to the ground next to the tree trunk, smoking slightly, and Patton let it fall.

"She's gone," Patton muttered to himself, trying to make himself believe it. "She's gone. She's gone. I—I did it, we're safe—"

 _We_. Patton whirled around. Virgil and Janus were still standing a few feet away. Both looked unharmed.

Both also looked completely horrified.

"Are you—are you okay?" Patton ran towards them. "Are you hurt? Oh no, are you—"

"I'm fine," Virgil said, but his quiet voice and wide eyes said otherwise. He was scared. But the Faerie was gone, what else would Virgil have to be scared of—

Oh.

He was scared of _Patton_.

Patton felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Immediately, he stopped in his tracks to give Virgil some space. Virgil didn't step closer, but he didn't move away either, which was good.

"Okay," Virgil said weakly, after a few agonizing seconds. "That happened. That—spiders."

Patton shuddered. "Please don't mention the spiders."

"Pat, they were all over you, I—"

"Please." Patton waved his hands frantically. "I…I _really_ don't want to think about it."

"Yeah. Got it." Virgil slowly walked over and picked up his crossbow from the ground. "I—I should have helped. Sorry I—"

"It's okay!" Patton pouted when Virgil didn't look convinced. "Kiddo, you couldn't have done anything! I'm just proud of you for standing up to her."

"Yeah," Virgil said again. He still looked uncharacteristically _lost_. Like he'd just woken up. Or he hadn't slept in days.

"You're sure you're okay?" Patton asked, stepping forward. And Virgil flinched away from him.

Patton's hurt must have shown on his face, because Virgil immediately started to apologize.

"It's fine," Patton said, interrupting the stream of sorries. "I—was bluffing, you know. I have like no actual power over you guys. It's a technicality."

"Yeah," Virgil said for the third time. He seemed to have forgotten any other words.

"Janus?" Patton's heart twinged with guilt when he remembered he hadn't checked on Janus yet. "Janus! Are you okay?"

Janus had sat down in the middle of the path, tucking his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his shins. He was staring at the empty tree trunk.

"Hey." Patton approached carefully. Janus didn't flinch away. Good start. "What's up, Jan?"

"You don't have to call me that anymore," Janus said, his voice completely empty of any tone. "She knows my name."

"I—" Patton sat down next to Janus. Virgil lay on Janus' other side, staring at the trees. "I'm sorry. I—I messed up with the name thing."

"V did too." Janus still wasn't looking at Patton. "It's fine, you couldn't have been expected to be perfect."

"Still." Patton reached out to touch Janus' shoulder, then drew back, thinking better of it. "Are…are you okay?"

Janus' arms tightened around him. It looked like he was trying to disappear, conjure himself a turtle shell against the world.

"I hated that," he finally said. "I _hated_ that. It felt disgusting, I hope I never see her again, I—"

"Yeah." Patton once again tried to touch Janus and stopped himself. "That's fair."

"I…" Janus swallowed. "I don't like not being in control."

"Look at that!" Patton said, smiling. "We're already learning more about each other!"

Virgil gave Patton an incredulous look. Okay. Not the time for silver linings, then. But Patton couldn't help it—even getting a rise out of Janus would be better than sitting in silence, watching him clutch at himself like he was unmoored.

"I suppose I should thank you," Janus finally said, turning to look at Patton for the first time. "You…you did alright."

"Better than 'alright.'" Virgil smiled at Patton from the ground. "You killed it, Pat. I'm proud of you."

"It was awful," Patton admitted. "Like, really awful. And I—I know I scared you guys, I'm sorry, I didn't want to do any of that, I—"

Something cold touched Patton's hand. Patton jerked back and looked down. It was Janus' hand. He'd laid it across Patton's. A small invitation, but an invitation nonetheless.

Patton turned his hand over so they were palm to palm. A small concession—their fingers weren't even intertwined—but a concession nonetheless.

"It's over now," Janus said. "We're okay."

Patton closed his eyes and tried his best to believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha Patton is not okay


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: crying, a small panic attack, discussions of lying, implied child abuse

It was a long time before they started walking again. Patton knew that they should get moving, knew they needed to get to Logan and Remus, but he was scared. They hadn't even found a plan to get over that stupid log. Who knew what else was waiting for them? He'd much rather sit here and focus on the sensation of Janus' palm against his.

But eventually they had to get up. And eventually Janus made his way over the log and helped Patton and Virgil across it as well. And eventually they started walking down the path again, just like nothing had changed, except everything had.

"It's sloping up again," Janus reported. "Less dangerous now because of the lack of fog, but still watch your step. Pat, I encourage you to try and focus."

Okay, that rankled. "I was focusing!"

Janus rolled his eyes. "Focus harder. If you step off that path a third time, I will not hesitate to leave you behind."

"Jerk," Virgil yelled at Janus' back.

And Janus flipped Virgil off.

Like nothing had changed. Like they'd never stopped walking in the first place.

Yay.

Patton watched Janus as he led them up a hill, deftly pulling himself over boulders, making a sarcastic remark every time Virgil or Patton slipped. He seemed to be back to his normal self. Like he had never clamped his own hand over his mouth, clamped that same hand over Patton's mouth, curled up on the path and stared into nowhere and confessed that he hated losing control. Was this how it was always going to be with Janus? One step forward, one step back? A moment of kindness, weakness, progress, humanity—then back to square one, any fumbles glossed over and ignored? Would Janus just keep pretending he'd never been anything but perfect?

Patton almost envied him. He wished he could forget his own mistakes. His own sacrifices. He wished he didn't see spiders whenever he closed his eyes. He wished he didn't still dream about fire.

But Patton wasn't a good enough liar for that.

The sun dipped towards the horizon and Patton's stomach rumbled. They paused, Janus pacing back and forth as Patton nibbled on a carrot. They were definitely running out of food. Patton's mouth watered at every bite of carrot, but he also knew he had to conserve their resources. Patton glanced at Virgil worriedly. Patton was a little chubby—perfect for giving hugs—but Virgil had always been a bit underweight. This wouldn't be good for Virgil. Maybe they could try and find some food.

Or maybe not. Eating food found in a magical Woods didn't seem like a very good plan.

See, Janus? Patton could be smart, too!

Virgil stumbled on a rock. Patton reached out and steadied him. Virgil gave him a grateful smile. Yeah. Everything was okay.

Then a little spider scurried out from between Patton's feet.

Spider. Spider-spider-spider—

Patton screamed. Flailed. Kicked wildly at the spider. He probably would have fallen off the path or cracked his head on a rock, but Virgil grabbed his arm and held him steady.

"What?" Janus asked, hands balling into fists as he turned around.

"Spider," Virgil explained, trying to stomp on it. Patton clung to Virgil's arms as goosebumps bubbled on his skin. He could feel the spiders on him, if he looked down he'd see them again, tickly and whispery and endless—

There was a loud thump. A rock squashed the spider. Patton waited with bated breath, but the spider didn't scurry out.

Janus brushed off his hands. "There. Spider taken care of."

"Oh." Patton nodded, trying to breathe. "Right. Er—thanks."

"It was just a spider," Janus said.

Yeah, but it wasn't. It wasn't just a spider. And Janus knew that. Patton could see that Janus knew that from the lingering gaze he gave Patton, from the way he'd immediately killed the spider, from the way he didn't snap at Patton when Patton screamed. He'd tensed and prepared to fight. He'd trusted that there was something wrong.

And Patton had been screaming about a spider.

Maybe it wasn't just a spider, but it was still pretty pathetic.

"Sorry," Patton mumbled, face flushing. He let go of Virgil's arm—he'd left little red marks, he hurt Virgil, stupid—and fumbled his way up the path, not turning around. He could feel Virgil and Janus watching him. He flushed deeper. He didn't know which was worse, pity or anger, but it was one of the two for sure. So Patton didn't turn around. If he didn't see it, he could pretend it didn't exist.

Janus brushed past Patton and hopped over a boulder. He barely gave Patton a glance. Maybe Patton was wrong about the pity-or-anger thing. Maybe Janus didn't care enough either way.

"We—" That was Virgil's voice, hesitant and quiet. "Guys."

Patton didn't turn around. Neither did Janus.

"We need to talk about this," Virgil said. "We can't just skate around it forever."

"Yes, we can," Patton and Janus said at the same time.

"Jinx!" Patton exclaimed. Janus sighed.

"Fine, then, correction." Virgil appeared by Patton's side, his eyes narrowed in something that was close to anger but not quite there. "We shouldn't skate around this forever. Avoiding the problem is just gonna cause more trouble."

"There isn't a problem." Janus pulled himself another few feet up the path. It was almost vertical by now, a cliff face, a wall of boulders and moss. "So I disagree."

"There's clearly a problem." Virgil glanced at Patton, who flinched. "Have you seen Pat?"

"Maybe he has a problem," Janus said. "But I don't."

"Look." Virgil sighed. "I couldn't care less about you, snake, but Pat's upset, so we're talking about it. Okay?"

"There's nothing to talk about." Janus tugged himself to the top of a large boulder. "There was a Faerie, there is no longer a Faerie, Pat proved himself useful for once in his life, it's over and done with."

"She said she'd come back." Patton swallowed. "So…maybe it's not over and done with."

"Scare tactic. She's not coming back as long as we stay on the path."

"You almost died," Patton whispered. He didn't think Janus could hear him, but from the way Janus' shoulders stiffened, Janus heard him loud and clear. "She—you could have—you were completely under someone else's control."

"I wasn't," Janus said, but it was an instinctive response and Patton could tell. It was a small shield. A sharp jab. Janus was trying to protect himself again, using the first lie he could find.

"You weren't?" Virgil snorted. "Yeah, news flash, you completely were."

"I was not." Janus had stopped climbing, but he didn't turn around to face them, either. "I had everything under control. I was just pretending to follow her orders."

Patton might have believed him, if not for the way his knuckles were white on the rock. If not for the blind terror he'd seen in Janus' face. It still made him feel sick to remember that, remember how helpless Janus had looked, silent and motionless.

"You could have killed us," Patton said before he could stop himself. "I was scared you would."

"I still might," Janus said, starting to move again. "With or without Faerie control. You're both extremely annoying."

"I don't think you would." The words came easily to Patton, and he was surprised at the vehemence he found. "I know you wouldn't."

"Heh." Janus looked back at Patton for an instant. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes weren't. "Yet another reason that you are exceedingly stupid."

"He's going to betray us," Virgil said, not bothering to lower his voice. "You know that, Pat."

Patton nodded. He did know that.

Didn't he?

"If she does come back," Janus said, as if that's where they'd left off. He was so good at that, at pretending that whole conversations hadn't happened. It made Patton himself doubt that they were real. Maybe he remembered wrong. Maybe he'd made up words that spun Janus into more of a good guy—and what did that make Patton, trying to justify Janus' actions? Janus was evil, and he was a dragon, and he'd hurt Patton's friend and burned Patton's town. Why would Patton want to see the good in him?

Yes, Patton tried to see the good in everyone. Yes, Patton tried to make friends with everyone. But that didn't change that Janus was bad.

Didn't it?

"If she does come back," Janus repeated, and Patton tore himself out of his thoughts, "we'll be ready. She has no power over us now. She knows both Virgil's name and mine, and they belong to Patton."

"I can't do anything with them," Patton felt the need to protest.

"I know." Virgil gave Patton a brief, reassuring smile. "We get it. I don't mind having you keep my name safe, Pat."

Patton nodded, but the smile fell off his face as quickly as it grew. "But…she doesn't know my name."

Janus winced. "Oh. Good point."

"And you can't lie to her about it." Virgil groaned. "Okay. If she comes back, there might be a problem."

"The whole 'you can't lie' thing in general is a problem." Janus turned back and looked Patton over. "Could you tell me more about that?"

"Yes," Patton answered. "I have to answer any questions with the whole truth."

"I know that." Janus waved a hand, hopping onto a boulder and kicking some dirt off it. "But is it objective or subjective truth?"

"Huh?"

"Is it what you think is true, or what's universally true?" Janus tapped his tongue against his teeth, a sign of concentration that Patton thought was ridiculously adorable. "My favorite color is orange."

"Cool," Patton said. "Mine's blue!"

"Great." Janus paused. "What's my favorite color?"

"Orange," Patton said without hesitation.

"It's yellow, actually." Janus smiled a bit at Patton, like Patton had done something impressive. "Subjective truth, then. That makes things easier."

"What th—" Patton slipped on a rock and paused to steady himself. "What things?"

"I'm going to teach you how to lie," Janus said.

"Oh." Patton's stomach did a little nervous flip. "Gotcha."

"Not lie, per se," Janus amended. "Just obscuring the truth."

"That sounds like lying," Patton said. "I…I don't like lying."

"Who'd have guessed."

"Pat." Virgil squeezed Patton's shoulder. "He's got a point. Learning how to not immediately blurt out your name when asked…it might be a good skill to have."

"Unfortunately, I can't do much for that." Janus shrugged. "Direct questions? Pat's stuck with those. However, we can try to exploit any loopholes we find. The subjective truth is a good start—tell Pat a lie, and he'll recite it as truth, as long as he believes it fully." Janus paused. "Wait, can you tell any half-truths?"

"No." Patton dug his fingers into a divot in the rock and levered himself up. "I have to fully believe it or I can't say it."

"It was worth a shot." Janus fell silent for a minute or so. Finally he asked, "Do you have to follow the spirit or the letter of the question?"

"I don't know what you're asking," Patton said. Ugh, he hated it when questions were unclear! It meant he couldn't answer yes or no because he didn't know the truth, and that made his whole mouth itch and ache.

"Say I ask you to tell me where your friend is hiding," Janus said, "because I'm plotting to kill him."

"Hey!" Patton complained. "Leave my friends alone!"

"It's just an analogy!" Janus ran his hand along a seam of iron in the rock. "Following the letter of the question means you could answer very vaguely, like 'Earth.' It's still a technical truth."

"Huh." Patton thought for a second. "I've never actually tried that."

"Well, no time like the present." Janus looked back at Patton. "I'm going to ask you where you live, and you're going to try to give me a purposefully vague answer, alright?"

"No," Patton admitted.

"Why not?"

"I—I don't like lying, you asked if it was alright, I had to tell the truth, it's actually fine because I understand why we're doing it—" Patton flushed and waved a hand. "Just ask the question."

"Okay," Janus said slowly. "Where do you live?"

"The world," Patton tried to say. Nothing. "Not here," was his second attempt. Finally "in town" managed to slip through the cracks.

"That's the best you could do?"

"Yes," Patton admitted, his face bright red.

"It's fine." Patton didn't know what Janus was reassuring him for, but he felt vaguely comforted nonetheless. "Pat, does it matter if the question is posed to you or not?"

"Yes." Patton squeezed through a crack between two boulders. "If it's posed to two people, most of the time, I can get away with not answering it. Also if it's really obviously a rhetorical question. Believe me, if I answered every question our teacher asked the class back in school? I'd have definitely been kicked out."

"Alright, that's another little loophole we can try and exploit." Janus scrunched up his nose in concentration. "Do you think if you fully convinced yourself a question wasn't meant for you, you could stop yourself from saying it?"

"Yes. I think so?" Patton frowned. "It's the 'fully convince' part that's the problem. Even if I'm mostly clear that I don't need to answer, it's still a lie of omission, and—"

Patton stopped himself before he could confess how much it hurt when he tried to lie. That would just get things off-track.

Unfortunately, Janus seemed to catch the slip-up. "This seems like a good time to ask. What happens if you lie or withhold the answer?"

Patton knew it was pointless to try and stop himself. He knew sooner or later the truth would come spilling out. But he still pressed his lips together and focused on climbing. Well, until his foot skidded as a large jolt of pain sliced through him. Ow. Ow, ow, ow, this hurt so much, why did he do this again?

"Pat?" Janus turned around, frowning. "Are you going to answer?"

And great, Patton didn't know how to answer that question. Yes? No? Which was a lie? Patton needed to tell the truth. But Virgil was right there, and Janus was staring at him, and the idea of telling the truth hurt even more. He couldn't explain it. He just knew if he told them, bad things would happen.

"Pat?" That was Virgil's voice. "Are you okay?"

More questions. More questions, piling in his head like firecrackers, about to go off. Patton had stopped walking—when had he stopped walking—and he gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and hung onto a nearby rock for dear life. Are you okay? Are you going to answer? What happens if you lie? Are you—are you—what happens—answer—okay—lie—lie—what were the questions again? Everything hurt. Explosions were going off under Patton's eyelids. Words crowded at his lips in no particular order, bashing at the walls, begging to be set free. What was the truth? He needed to find it—no, he needed to hide it—but he needed to know the truth to tell a lie—

"Pat!" Two hands grabbed his own. "C'mon, breathe!"

Patton took a deep breath. He couldn't see. The world was shimmery and shifty. Oh, no. Was he going to cry? Please no crying. Please.

"Repeat the questions, please," Patton forced out. The wrong words. They tasted like oil and tar in his mouth and left burning traces on his tongue.

"I asked if you were okay," Virgil said.

"No." Patton hated to say it, but he couldn't regret it, not with the way the pain started to lift.

"I asked if you were going to answer my first question." Janus' voice was surprisingly close to Patton.

"I will." That left only the first question. A two-word answer and he'd be home free. Just two words. Why was this so hard?

Patton closed his eyes. "It hurts."

And there was deafening silence. The hot burning pain subsided. Patton realized he was sitting on a rock, a few tears trembling on his eyelashes, Virgil's hands in his and Janus standing awkwardly a few feet away like he didn't really know what to do. Patton slipped one hand out of Virgil's grip, took off his glasses, and wiped his tears away with his sleeve. He hated to admit that he'd been crying, but they probably all saw.

They all saw.

Stupid.

"Hey." When Patton put his glasses back on, he saw that Virgil's eyebrows were knitted in concern. "Do you feel—I mean, I hope you feel better now."

Patton nodded, holding back a sniffle.

"You gave us a bit of a scare." Virgil squeezed Patton's hand. "I…we shouldn't have barraged you like that. I know you never like more than one question, so—yeah. That was our bad."

"Agreed." Janus stepped closer to Patton and seemed to be silently asking if he could sit. Patton scooted over and made room for him on the rock. Janus perched on the edge, keeping a few feet between them.

"It hurts," Janus repeated. Patton couldn't parse out his tone.

"Not really that much," Patton lied, trying to smile.

"You crying tells me otherwise."

Patton stared at his hands.

"Pat—" Patton looked at Virgil, expecting anger or pity or distrust. Instead, he saw guilt. "You should have told me! I've been—I've been asking you questions for years, I wouldn't have if I knew—I'm so sorry!"

"It's really not that bad!" Patton protested. "Don't blame yourself, kiddo!"

"Too bad, I'm doing it!" Virgil's voice was gaining an edge of hysteria. "Pat, I've been forcing you to answer my questions for years, because if you don't, it hurts you!"

"It only hurts if I don't answer right away!" Patton tried for a smile again. "And it really doesn't hurt that much!"

"You didn't see yourself." Virgil's voice cracked. "You looked like you'd broken a bone or something. Like you were on fire."

"Pat." Janus was looking at him carefully. "I'd like to know how it hurts, exactly."

Patton nodded. If he didn't tell the truth, Janus might ask him the question instead, and then Patton would be doomed. So he really still didn't have a choice.

"It's kind of like…" Patton fought for words. "Virge, remember making s'mores?"

Virgil smiled a little. "Oh yeah! That was fun. I threw most of mine at Roman's head."

"Yes, which was very rude of you." Patton shifted, biting his lip. "You know when you're making a s'more, you have to toast the marshmallow first? We had that bonfire that the Nguyens made for us, and we'd stick the marshmallows on the sticks and roast them. But like, after the fire had died down a bit, it took forever to brown the marshmallows unless you held them right over the center of the fire. Right?"

"Right," Virgil said. "It kind of hurt, but we still did it, because marshmallows."

"Because marshmallows!" Patton agreed. "It didn't hurt at first, though. It was just kind of warm and tingly. After a little while it started hurting. Sometimes your marshmallow was done in time, so you could pull it out before it got any worse. But sometimes your marshmallow wasn't done yet? So you'd just wait there as it hurt more and more. It starts all tingly and then it's all warm and then it's hot and eventually you kind of feel like your whole arm is on fire? Do you remember that?"

Virgil's eyes widened. "That's what it's like when you don't answer?"

"Yep." Patton popped the 'p.' "Except, um, it hurts way more than that did."

Virgil made a little noise between a laugh and a sob. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Question," Janus warned, but it was too late.

"Because…" Patton briefly considered holding back for a little while, but he was already tired and sore. "Because I didn't want you to feel bad for asking me questions."

Virgil stared at him for a long time. "What."

"I don't know why you're confused?"

"Pat—" Virgil looked torn between hugging Patton and strangling him. "If it hurts you, I am never asking you questions again."

"What? Why?"

"I think it's pretty damn self-explanatory!" Virgil exclaimed. "I don't want you to be hurt!"

Patton frowned. "Kiddo, you don't need to stop asking me questions for your benefit. I know it's useful to make sure I tell the truth, and—"

"Useful?" Virgil repeated incredulously. "You think just because it gets me a faster answer, I'm going to put you in pain?"

"You don't like people who lie." Patton tried to understand what was happening. "I thought—you'd be letting me lie—"

"Clearly you've been lying already." It could have been an accusatory sentence, but it was softer than Patton had ever heard. "I would much rather let you lie on your own terms than be forced to tell the truth on mine."

Patton opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Nothing came out.

"I love you, Pat, but you're being ridiculous about this." Virgil turned to Janus. "Back me up here, snake."

"No." Janus shook his head. "Leave me far, far out of this."

"Look." Virgil shrugged. "You can't stop me from not asking you questions, Pat. I'm doing that on my own. And—whether you think I need to say so or not, I'm really, really sorry."

"I don't think you need to say so." Patton smiled. "Because I will forgive you. Every time."

Virgil smiled back.

"You're done?" Janus looked between them. "This had better be the end of this, because we just spent five minutes talking about feelings. At this rate, we'll be stuck on this part of the path by nightfall, and I would rather not sleep on a boulder."

"Right! Sorry!" Patton slid off the rock. "Let's go, Jan. Um…thanks for waiting for us."

"I didn't want you doing swan dives off the path." Janus stepped aside and let Virgil climb first. "Watch your step, remember?"

"Um." Patton immediately regretted speaking when Janus turned to face him, but there was no turning back. "I'll keep in mind what you said—about pretending they're talking to someone else, or being really vague, or telling my truth instead of everyone else's? Um. Also, I can lie by—if a question only technically needs a one-word answer, I can tell the truth on the one-word answer and be free to lie about the rest of it. I've—I've done that before."

Janus' face was blank. Finally he said "Good idea."

"Thanks," Patton said, not sure if he should be gratified by the praise. He chose vaguely disturbed instead, because it made him feel less like a horrible person.

Janus nodded and walked up the path, like the conversation was over already. Maybe it was. "Now, are you—I mean, come on, we haven't got all day."

"Why did you do that?" Patton asked before he could tell himself to shut up.

"What are you—I don't know what you mean."

"That." Patton pointed. "You're trying not to ask me questions. Why?"

Janus looked nonplussed. "The same reason as Virgil."

"But I thought—"

"It's hurting you," Janus said simply. Like it was the easiest answer in the world.

"What—" Patton shook his head. "You're giving me opportunities to lie! How can you trust me if I'm not honest?"

"Honest and trustworthy are not the same thing." Janus laughed. "I don't trust you whether or not you're being magically compelled to tell the truth, so it makes no difference to me."

Patton laughed a little, too. For some reason, that was actually reassuring. For some reason, when Janus shot Patton a quick smile, Patton smiled back.

And for some reason, Patton found himself saying "Thank you."

"For what?" Janus asked, smirking. "For not being as much of a jerk as I possibly could be?"

"Yes," Patton said.

That seemed to catch Janus off guard. But he only nodded and turned back to the path.

"Watch your step," he said. "We don't want you to fall."

Patton smiled at Janus' back and was extra careful all the way up the path. And every time he slipped, Janus turned around, ready to steady him. Virgil took the lead. Janus climbed after him. And Patton was last, the whole path yawning below him, ready to dash him on the rocks.

But Janus was only a few feet away, and for some reason, Patton knew that Janus would catch him.

It was getting dark and the path wasn't leveling out. Patton had already been struggling—everything ached, he was tired and hungry, and he'd never been the most athletic person to begin with. Now? He swore the shadows were shifting when his back was turned. He'd put his hand on what he thought was a rock, slip, and realize he'd just placed his hand on thin air. He'd squeeze through what looked like a wide enough gap and bang his hips on the rock. Sometimes he'd see movement and whirl around, only to be greeted with nothing but the thinning trees around them. Then he'd slip and fall and Janus would grab his arm and hold him upright.

Patton knew it was getting bad when Virgil started slipping. Janus was more reluctant about catching Virgil, but it was okay because Virgil was better at catching himself. But little fumbles turned to almost once-a-minute slip-ups, and Virgil's swearing was getting louder and louder, and the sky was only getting darker.

"Where are we stopping for the night?" Patton asked.

"When the path levels out." Janus waved a hand at the sparse trees around them. "I think we'll be reaching a peak soon, if that's what the Faerie was taunting us about."

Patton shuddered at the mention of the Faerie. But reaching a peak was good! If they were trying to get to Dragon Mountain, it was better to be going up, right? Maybe this peak led to the peak of the Dragon Mountain! Maybe there was a little bridge connecting them! Or maybe this peak was completely unrelated. Well, it was best to be optimistic about things.

A few pebbles shifted and Janus hissed and before Patton knew it, Janus was falling towards him. Patton let go of the rock. He planted his feet. Janus collided with him and Patton grabbed his shirt. For a sickening second, Patton's own feet slipped. Then he dug them into the soil and Janus managed to grab a rock nearby. Patton was left with Janus almost leaning on him, their faces very close together.

"Hey," Patton said, his legs trembling. "You are heavy."

"I—" Janus blinked for a few seconds. "You caught me?"

"Somehow! Now please get out of my arms because you are heavy."

Janus nodded and extricated himself. Patton noticed that he didn't seem too uncomfortable with being touched, other than a slight flush. Yay, win for Patton! Then again, maybe it was just because it was a life-or-death situation.

"Thank—" Janus swallowed, turning away. "I'm glad you didn't drop me. I figured you would."

"I would never!" Patton pouted. "That would be really mean, plus we need you to get to Dragon Mountain, so."

"I was actually referring to your lack of strength," Janus clarified, grabbing a rock to pull himself higher. "Your arms have the consistency of noodles."

Patton frowned at his arms. They were good for giving hugs but, he had to admit, not great for climbing. Why didn't their adventure involve hugging? He was good at that.

"You're alive, snake?" Virgil asked.

"Yes," Janus said, somehow managing to make that one word sound like an insult.

"Darn." Virgil looked around. "Seriously, though, you're the one who can see in the dark the most. If you're falling, that's a bad sign. I think we should try and stop somewhere for the night."

"Would you like to sleep on a boulder?" Janus reached out and poked a nearby rock. "Or perhaps nestle in-between small cliffs? There's no space to lie down, and if one of you rolled over, you'd roll right down the path and either land in the Woods or break your skull."

"I like my skull unbroken," Patton admitted. "You're sure there's a peak soon?"

"Yes," Janus said. He didn't sound or look sure. But Patton decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

If Janus and Virgil weren't there, Patton probably would have just sat next to a rock and waited for morning. He wasn't planning on sleeping anyway, and he really didn't want to close his eyes with the spiky forest watching him. The shadows teemed between branches, shifting like spiders in the trees. Patton swallowed the bile in his throat and tried to press closer to Janus.

Please, please, please let them reach the peak soon.

And his Fae luck must have taken pity on them, because the trees thinned out and they found themselves on top of a mountain.

It was like a little bald cap surrounded by a fringe of trees. A few rocks jutted into the air, weeds and grasses sprouting between the cracks. Little blue flowers lined the edges, a few bushes of bright red berries hunkered beneath the trees, and a small pine tree stuck its bristly top into the late evening sky. Iron lined the whole peak, keeping the trees at bay, and a small path on the other side led back down into the forest.

Back down?

Oh, come on. The path led to a sheer cliff face, and below it were the fuzzy tops of trees. The Woods stretched out beneath them like a carpet. Far away was a long chasm, sheer and deep as the slice of a knife. Beyond that was Dragon Mountain. Taller by far than the mountain they were on, it pierced the sky, filled with craggy cliffs and large caves. There were no trees on it at all. It was solid gray rock.

"A cliff face," Virgil said. "And I thought this day couldn't get any worse. Why did the path lead us up a mountain?"

"That's a problem for tomorrow," Janus said, walking onto the peak and looking around. "This is a good place to camp, so we'll sleep here tonight."

Patton glanced back at the path. Trees clamored for his attention, pressed together on either side, more shadow than substance. A cold wind danced around his shins and made the hairs on his neck bristle.

"Ah. Sleeping near a cliff." Virgil nodded. "Relaxing."

"Stay away from the cliff and you should be fine." Janus was already unrolling his blanket. "I'm not going to bother clandestinely stealing any wood and making another fire. If one of you wants to do it, be my guest."

Patton glanced at Virgil, who shrugged and flopped onto the ground. Okay. No fire. Hopefully it wouldn't rain again. Had Patton just jinxed it? Oh no, please, don't let it rain again.

"Are we eating?" Virgil asked.

"I don't know," Patton said. "Do you want to?"

"I'd rather sleep."

"Okay."

Patton unrolled his sleeping back and sat on top of it, staring out at the Mountain. It was dark so he couldn't see the details, but it was sharp and sheer, erupting from the Woods around it. He thought he saw a flash of movement near the top, but when he looked closer, there was nothing.

Up so high, there were no trees blocking the sky. It felt like they were back in the cornfield—had it really only been two days since then? Patton couldn't believe it—staring up at an infinite space, patterned with a few stars. Clouds drifted across. Patton tried to name them, find their shapes, but they were wispy and it was too dark to see where they ended and the sky began.

Virgil began to snore softly. Patton reached out and touched Virgil's hand. Virgil's fingers curled around Patton's.

"Go to sleep," Janus murmured, shooting Patton a glare. "I can hear you shifting around."

"Oh." Patton giggled. "Sorry! Goodnight!"

"Don't fall off the cliff," Janus instructed, his voice petering off in the middle of the sentence. He'd fallen asleep too. So fast! Even though they were on such hard rock. Aw, they must both be really tired.

Patton was really tired. Really, ungodly tired. Apparently getting knocked unconscious didn't count as rest, because he felt like he hadn't slept well for days. He really, really didn't want to have any nightmares. But if he could get an hour—a half hour, even—of sleep from it? He was willing to risk it.

Patton lay down on the sack. A few rocks dug into his back, but it was no more uncomfortable than sleeping on the path. The sky yawned in front of him and the trees rustled behind him. It was soporific to watch the clouds trace their way across the sky. Virgil's hand was soft and warm in Patton's.

He'd been tired a second ago, hadn't he? Right now, he felt hyperawake. Hyperaware. He felt every little brush of wind, heard every creak of branches and every occasional birdsong, heard Janus' steady breathing and felt the little creases of Virgil's palm. He felt the way his hair pooled around his head, his overalls pressed against his legs. He reached up and rubbed the little buckles on the straps. Metal. Apparently the dragons hadn't gone so far as to steal his overalls, no matter how much they needed iron.

They needed iron to maintain the Iron Woods. And although their actions were despicable and had no defense, Patton was starting to see why they wanted to protect everyone from the Woods. Patton did not want Fae showing up for tea. He did not want snakes in his swimming hole. And he had a feeling that what they'd seen was barely half of it.

Janus had hurt Roman. He'd attacked Patton's town. But he'd done it, ironically, to help save Patton's town.

Was that what the dragons were thinking of? Or did they think only of themselves, protection for their own people? Did it matter what they were thinking? The ends didn't justify the means, even if the dragons were being selfless, and Patton somehow doubted that.

Still. It was weird. It was something he'd tried not to think about, but right now, everything was laid bare in front of him.

Janus was bad. Except he wasn't. Except he could be nice and funny and protective. While also being rude and sarcastic and selfish. He hurt Roman and helped destroy Patton's town. He'd also saved Virgil and Patton's lives multiple times. Patton saved his life. But Patton also burned his face. Patton hurt him. Patton hurt him because he was the bad guy, but now there was a little needling doubt in his head that maybe Janus wasn't really so bad.

But if Janus wasn't evil, and Patton hurt him, what did that make Patton?

He would have killed Roman. Patton knew this. That's what Virgil said.

Looking at Janus' sleeping figure, though, Patton found it hard to believe.

Janus had hurt one person and helped others, but he was still bad, because he hurt that one person. Janus had lied a few times and told the truth on others, but he was still a liar, because he lied those few times. Janus was going to betray them, but he also helped them, but he couldn't be trusted because he was going to betray them. Janus had made a mistake and that meant he was bad.

But…Patton hurt Janus. Patton lied to Virgil. Patton made mistakes. So if Janus could be judged for what he did in the past, so could Patton. Which meant—

What was the difference between them?

Janus hadn't apologized for his mistakes. But neither had Patton. He'd never apologized for hurting Janus.

Because that would mean Patton did the wrong thing.

And that meant he was bad.

Patton sighed and covered his face. Why did he have to be so not-tired now? He wanted to sleep. Why was it as soon as he wanted something, he couldn't get it? Why'd he have to get all philosophical? He missed when good-and-bad was simple, the way it was in stories, with a clear villain and a hero who did no wrong. He missed when he knew he was good.

But had he ever known that? Or had he just strangled the little negative whispers until he could pretend they didn't exist at all? Would a good person have to try so hard to be selfless and honest? Would a good person throw a burning ember at someone's face?

Patton tried to listen to the trees instead of his thoughts. At this rate, he'd welcome nightmares. They were scary but they didn't make him question his morality.

Unfortunately, he was nowhere near sleeping. He was just going to stay awake forever and—

Patton's eyes slipped closed.

He jolted awake again, either a few seconds or a few hours later, head full of fires and screams. And spiders. There were spiders now, the same dull black as the smoke, covering him and weighing him down and creeping into his mouth as he screamed—

Patton shook himself and rubbed his eyes. Nope! Nope. Not thinking about it. Not.

It was dark, even darker than earlier. He could barely see a thing. Patton rolled over and saw the lump that must be Virgil and the lump that must be Janus. Both were still.

There were no birds singing now. Just the rustling of trees, steady and soft. They sounded like they were crying.

Patton frowned as he grew a little more awake. That was crying. Someone was crying!

Oh no, not another trap. Patton tried to cover his ears. He'd learned his lesson. Ignore people or animals in need if they were going to get his friends hurt.

Wow, it sounded really bad when he put it like that.

But the crying didn't cease. And it didn't sound distant and desperate, and it wasn't luring Patton in, and it was almost—stifled. Like someone didn't want to be heard.

Patton looked at Virgil. Was it him? No, he was snoring gently, hand resting on the rocks where Patton had left it. Palm up, fingers curled. Patton slipped his hand into Virgil's again, and Virgil hummed, his fingers limp in Patton's grasp.

That left—no. That couldn't be right.

But when Patton looked over at Janus, his shoulders were shaking. One hand was covering his mouth. He'd curled up on the blanket, knees to his chest, his other arm tight around him.

Yep. He was definitely crying. Quiet and muffled, but Patton could make out the little sobs, clear as day.

Oh.

Janus was crying.

Patton felt he ought to say something. He also felt he ought to roll over and pretend he hadn't heard. Janus wouldn't take kindly to Patton walking over and asking if he was alright. He also wouldn't like being seen as weak or out of control, Patton was learning. He'd probably deny he was crying altogether, or at worst, threaten Patton about it. Patton wasn't eager to get called names for trying to help.

But it was so soft and heartbreaking. And like it or not, Patton would always try to help someone who was upset. Even if the person was his enemy and maybe evil.

"Janus?" Patton whispered.

The crying stopped.

There was a long sigh. "What is it, Pat?" Janus asked, not turning around. His voice was irritated and clear and just like normal. If Patton hadn't heard the crying himself, he wouldn't have believed it happened at all.

"I—" Patton searched for a good excuse. "I couldn't sleep."

"Good for you."

"Can you sleep?"

Janus huffed. "Not when you're talking to me."

"Right." Patton could have left it there, but he felt that he hadn't found the right words yet, that he hadn't conveyed everything he needed to. He wanted to apologize, wanted to chide Janus, wanted to ask if Janus was okay, wanted to say it was alright if the answer was no. The silence between them stretched taut. Janus wouldn't say anything. Patton had to.

"How's your face?" Patton asked. "Does it hurt?"

Why'd he asked that? Janus' shoulders tensed and he shifted slightly, not answering. Patton opened his mouth to apologize or backtrack.

"No," Janus said stiffly.

"That's…" Patton bit his lip. "That's good."

Not an apology. But something approximating it. Something edging nearer to it, afraid to get too close, afraid to get burned.

"Go to sleep," Janus said. "Pat."

"I can't," Patton protested.

"Why—I don't see why not."

Patton smiled a little bit at the lack of a question. The smile soon fell off his face. "I'm not tired," he said weakly, knowing his quiet voice would give him away.

"You mean something's bothering you," Janus said.

Patton sighed. "Yeah."

There was a long pause. "You won't leave me alone until you tell me what it is, will you?"

"Of course I will!"

"Just spit it out," Janus snapped. "I haven't got all night."

"I'm…" Patton cast around for words. Everything seemed so plain earlier that night, but the crystal-clear conundrums and weighty thoughts had flown out of his head. "Worried. Curious. Confused."

"Wow, don't strain yourself trying to be specific."

"About…dragons." Patton waved a hand. "How you guys work? Is that the right word to use?"

"Don't ask me," Janus said. "I have no idea what you're trying to say."

Neither did Patton, if he was being honest. "They're your family. Right?" Patton asked. "Can you tell me more about them?"

Janus shifted. "I don't know what you want me to tell you. They're large, scaly, and breathe fire."

"But are you…close?" Patton tried to figure out why he was asking this. Maybe it was for the good of the group. "Will they listen to us more if you're there?"

No. That was a good question, but it wasn't what Patton really wanted to ask, and he couldn't figure out why.

"I don't know," Janus said. "They'll probably assume you've kidnapped me."

"So they'll be more aggressive?"

"I don't know."

"But if you tell them what happened, will they listen?"

"I don't know, alright?" Janus snapped. Patton froze. There was dead silence between them, broken only by Virgil muttering something and turning over.

"I don't know what will happen," Janus finally murmured, and for the first time it actually sounded like he'd been crying only minutes ago. "They probably think I'm dead."

"Will they be glad?" Patton asked, keeping his voice level. He felt like he was holding a glass plate or approaching a skittish puppy. One wrong move and he'd break the moment. "To know you're alive?"

"Maybe." Janus curled into himself a little more. "I doubt they'll care."

Patton frowned. "I'm sure they—"

"What? You're sure they what?" Janus snarled, sitting up and facing Patton for the first time. His teeth were bared, his fists were clenched, and Patton made out redness around his eyes. "They left me for dead in a town filled with humans, with a burned face and a broken wing and no way to get home. Don't assume you know anything about me or them."

Patton swallowed. "That's…not how family should work. Family sticks together."

Janus sighed and lay down again, facing away from Patton. "Not everyone can be perfect like you."

"I'm not perfect!" Patton paused. "And—I mean, that was really bad, but—I'm glad. I'm glad you're alive and I'm glad I…got to meet you."

"Because I can help you."

"Right," Patton said. "Of course. Just because of that."

Janus laughed a little bit. "No one was in any doubt that you're glad I'm alive. This isn't about you."

"I thought I'd say it anyway." Patton swallowed. "Just so you know."

Janus was silent for a long time. "You really should go to sleep."

Patton smiled. "So should you."

"I will if you will."

"Okay."

Patton stared up at the sky. The conversation was over, clearly. But words still pressed at the tip of his tongue. And maybe it was the late night, or the crisp air of the peak, or the fact that he'd heard Janus crying, that made him decide to speak again.

"Will you betray us?" Patton asked the air.

"What?" Janus asked.

"Virgil thinks you will. I—I don't know if I do." Patton wrapped one arm around himself. "If it's us against the dragons, will you choose their side?"

"Of course I will." It was simple and exactly what Patton expected, so why did it slice through his lungs and rob him of his breath? "They're my family."

"You—" Patton tried to wrangle his thoughts again. "Just because they're your family doesn't mean you need to help them. Not if…not if they don't do the same for you."

Janus snorted. "Who else do I have?"

"Us." Me, Patton didn't add.

"Seriously?"

"You could choose us. If you wanted." Patton rolled over and watched the back of Janus' head, the slope of his shoulders. "If…if you need us, I'll be here."

Janus didn't respond. Patton didn't need him to. Just having the offer hanging between them, delicate and fine in the night air, was all he wanted. If Janus wanted to take it, he could. If Janus didn't, well, what had Patton expected?

Janus' breathing slowed and Patton realized he'd fallen asleep. No more crying. His hair swayed in the wind. Patton felt like he could reach out and touch Janus, even though he was five feet away and Virgil was between them, still sound asleep despite all the talking. Patton waited and listened for a long time, but Janus didn't wake up again.

Patton sat up and curled up on his blanket. He'd take watch for the rest of the night. If one of them was attacked, he'd warn them. If there was a problem, he'd be awake and handle it.

And if Janus wanted to talk, Patton would be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha Janus isn't okay either


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: blood, food, falling, death mentions, and PSTD and depression symptoms referenced

Being so high up, Patton saw the moment the sun peeked over the edge of the horizon. It was flaming red and sent little shivering streaks of color through the air. Patton waited until the whole peak of the mountain was bathed in sunlight before walking over to Virgil.

"Hey." Patton shook Virgil's shoulder. "Get up, okay, kiddo?"

Virgil mumbled something but opened his eyes.

"Good job!" Patton walked over to Janus. "Hey, you—"

"Already awake," Janus snapped.

"Oh!" Patton laughed. "My bad! Can you get up?"

Janus sighed and climbed to his feet. It was always a production watching Janus stand upright. His knees unlocked and his arms twisted up and his legs stretched, since every part of his body was a little too long for the other parts. He ran a hand through his hair and unknotted a few of the tangles before adjusting his shirt, pulling the yellow beanie over his head, and turning around. The morning light played off his nose and splashed around his mouth and made his eyes gleam.

"What are you looking at?" Janus asked.

"Oh—" Patton flushed. "Nothing! I—let's eat."

"Eat what?" Virgil asked, turning his knapsack upside down. A small shriveled apple bounced on the rock. "We're fresh out."

Patton checked his own knapsack. Yep, nothing. "Janus?"

Janus dug out a few bits of bread. "I still have some."

"Well, we'll eat that," Virgil said, grabbing the bread. "You can starve or whatever."

"Virgil!" Patton protested, crossing his arms. "That's not very nice! Janus is just as important to the group as us!"

Virgil gave Patton a long look. Patton glared back.

"He can take it," Janus said. "I need food less than you anyway. And everything you packed tastes like sawdust."

"I didn't pack any meat, I know," Patton said apologetically. "'Cause I didn't eat meat. Maybe you can go, um, find some?"

"Doubtful, unless a sheep falls out of the air and lands on the path."

"Well, finding food can be a _later_ problem." Virgil tossed Patton the bread. Patton fumbled with it and it fell onto the rocks. He picked it up, brushed it off, and ate it anyway. He was hungry! And germs were the least of their worries right now.

"What's the now problem?" Janus asked.

Virgil walked over to the cliff and pointed down.

Patton joined him, a few feet from the edge to be cautious, looking out over the path. It was narrow and crumbled, winding down the side of the cliff to the trees far below. They couldn't be more than several hundred feet up. That's what Patton told himself. Still, it was definitely enough to kill anyone on impact.

Janus glanced over. "I don't see the problem."

"You're kidding, right?" Virgil waved his hands at the cliff, the sky, the Woods, and basically everything. "It's a very large problem."

"I'll just fly over—" Janus cut himself off, staring at the cliff. "Right."

" _Right_ ," Virgil mimicked. "You can't fly, idiot. And neither can we."

"There's a problem," Janus admitted. "A large problem."

"Hey, it's not—" Patton glanced down and his stomach made a little swooping motion. "Not that bad," he finished, scooting away from the edge.

"Is there another path?" Virgil asked, looking around.

"I only see berries," Janus said.

Virgil stared at the berries. "I want to eat the berries."

"What?" Patton grabbed Virgil's hand. "No eating the random berries!"

"They're probably poisonous," Virgil said. "But I'm hungry and we're going to die by falling in like thirty seconds, so who cares?"

"No possibly-poisonous magical berries." Patton tiptoed closer to the edge of the cliff. "We can do this! Just…don't look down?"

He promptly looked down, squeaked, and scrambled away from the edge again.

Virgil nodded, looking somewhat terrified. "Snake, I don't suppose you magically healed overnight and can fly us out of here?"

"Would you be willing to ride on me if I did?"

"No," Virgil admitted.

"Let's not worry about what-ifs," Patton said, approaching the cliff for a third time. This time, he managed to balance on the edge and ignore the screaming of his mind— _you're going to die you're going to die you're going to die_ —so he counted that as a win. Third time's the charm!

"I suppose there's nothing else for it," Janus said. He looked the least wary, but he could also fly, at least in theory. "Who first?"

"Anyone but me," Virgil said. "Maybe you two should just go rescue Logan and Remus. I can camp out on this neat mountain. See you later."

This was where Patton would usually say that was perfectly fine, Virgil could do what he liked, and that he just wanted to see Virgil safe. Instead, he said "Not an option, kiddo. You're not safe on your own, and we need you here, so give it your best shot, okay?"

"Great." Virgil gave Patton a thumbs up and a grimace. "I'll try my best. Always wanted to die with my bro—best friend. And my worst enemy. A fun story to tell the grandchildren I won't have because I'm gay and about to die."

"Maybe we should attempt to tie ourselves together," Janus said. "Is there rope?"

"That's a nope on the rope," Patton said, giggling at the rhyme. "I forgot it."

"Any climbing tools? Like nails?"

"They're all metal," Virgil said, "so you guys stole them."

"Right," Janus said, not looking abashed. Then again, did he ever? "I should have known these knapsacks were useless. Onwards?"

"Onwards," Patton agreed, inching closer to the lip of the cliff and trying to keep his knees from knocking. He turned around and got down on his knees, scooching his way to the edge. When his first foot dropped off the cliff, he almost shrieked. He glanced behind him—mistake, there were the trees far below, some birds wheeling beneath him, he was up so _high_ and he was going to die—and put his foot on the start of the path.

"Let's do this," Patton said to himself, trying to smile. Okay. Just inch that foot down—nope, too far, why were these rocks so slippery—yeah, he could stay there, his hand was firm—was it firm? Maybe it would slip—okay, don't look down, _don't_ —oh goodness, he didn't want to die, he couldn't help picturing himself broken on the forest floor—

"You're doing great," Janus said.

Patton blinked up at him. "I climbed one foot down."

"You haven't died yet," Janus pointed out. "Just trying to be encouraging."

"Yeah, 'you haven't died yet' is very encouraging," Virgil groused from where he was standing behind Janus, hands in his pockets, scowling at nothing in particular. Janus barely bothered to roll his eyes in response.

When Patton had somehow managed a few feet down—it took him a few minutes, it would take _forever_ to get down the cliff, he'd slip and mess up and fall to his death—Janus slipped down the cliff above him. Janus was much smoother and stronger with his climbing than Patton, although he was probably just as tired and in pain from his broken wing. Patton envied his ability to keep an impassive face even when overlooking a steep drop to certain death.

Virgil, however, did not keep an impassive face. He started swearing as soon as he placed his feet on the first rock and shuffled down the path. The swearing was near-constant. Occasionally it pitched upwards or grew louder during a difficult section, and once in a while it was just a hiss when Virgil lost his step, but it became a steady rhythm. Patton found himself moving to the rhythm of the cuss words, nodding his head along. They were very creative. They also helped him keep his mind off the yawning abyss below them.

So there was Patton, grabbing at the cliff so desperately that his fingers were already scratched and bleeding, sidling his way down the narrow path and reciting _I-have-Fae-luck-I-will-not-die_ in his head. Then there was Janus, who was completely silent, eyes narrowed and focused. Finally was Virgil, swearing almost cheerfully, his breathing shallow, occasionally flipping off the drop below them.

Patton would have chided Virgil for all the bad language. But he figured in this case, it might actually be justified.

Patton tried not to look behind him. Or down. He just focused on the rocks in front of him. It was like climbing the little rock pile by the mason's place! Except very large and deadly. He found out he could slip his hands into cracks in the rock and keep them steady. Then he found out that if he stumbled while doing that, his hand twisted and got lodged in there. He dangled for almost a minute before Janus was able to help lever his wrist back out. Patton cradled it for a second then kept climbing down. Yeah, it hurt, but so did the rest of him.

He had no idea how far along they were. It felt like it had been forever. His knees and feet already ached. Maybe they were almost halfway down. Maybe they were almost down! Patton would just have to turn around and check—no. Nope! Not looking down. Not today.

Patton looked down.

They were barely a quarter down the cliff. No, not even that. They'd made it about fifty feet. Birds still wheeled below them, large and bulky, screeching wildly.

Oh, come _on_. They'd never make it!

No. That wasn't optimistic. Everything would be fine! He'd never get anywhere with that kind of naysayer attitude. He was starting to sound like Virgil, and although Patton's kiddo was wonderful and special, he wasn't always the best role model.

Virgil's swearing grew louder and more frantic. There were several loud thunks from above. Patton looked up and sideways but only saw Janus' pale hands and a snatch of Virgil's shirt.

"You okay?" Patton asked.

"Crossbow," Virgil said with the same vehemence and venom as all the swear words. "It keeps bonking me in the head or trying to fall off my shoulders or getting in the way of climbing."

Janus crossed his hands and kicked off a rock to reach another one. "Drop it."

"What?" Virgil asked.

"Drop the crossbow."

"Why would I do that?" Virgil spluttered. "It's my only weapon!"

"Weapons don't do any good against magic."

"Oh, really? Didn't I save all our lives with this crossbow? Shot a snake in the eye?" Virgil huffed. "Or did you forget already?"

"If it's going to get you or one of us killed, drop it." Janus' voice was cold. "I'd rather worry about one of us probably dying now than some of us possibly dying later."

Virgil was quiet for a long time. "I like this crossbow."

"Good for you," Janus snarled, "but if you're going to fall into me and send us all tumbling, I _don't_ like the crossbow."

"I don't want to lose it." Virgil's voice was quiet. "It's my parents'."

Janus huffed. "I'm sure they'll forgive you if you break their crossbow. Better than a broken ribcage."

"No, that's—" Virgil swallowed. "My parents aren't…alive. Actually."

"Oh." Janus paused. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Did you like them?"

"My mom used to bake me blueberry muffins," Virgil said. "My dad spoke three different languages and he would read bedtime stories in all different voices. My mom was the one who taught me how to shoot and my dad was the one who taught me when."

"So…good?"

"Yeah." Virgil nodded. His voice was tight. "The best."

"What happened?" Janus asked. To any outside observer, he appeared entirely uninterested. But Patton noticed the way his eyes flickered over to Virgil, the way his top lip covered his bottom lip slightly. He was interested.

Virgil's brittle voice gained a new strength. A new anger. "Dragons happened."

It was Janus' turn to be silent.

"Not just my parents," Virgil added, and Patton could hear the hurt underneath the anger. He wasn't sure if Janus could. The anger was loud and crackling and easy to hear. The hurt was quiet and buried and faded. But still strong, if you knew where to listen. Patton knew where to listen. He'd been there when the hurt was all there was, when Virgil cried more than he smiled, when Patton would drag him out of bed and crack jokes and laugh enough for the both of them. Patton was always the positive one, because if Patton wasn't happy enough to lift Virgil's spirits, Virgil would just fall back under.

Those were bad days. Virgil had moved forward, and Virgil had grown up, and Virgil had been stronger than anyone Patton knew. Virgil had learned how to smile. Virgil had started to call Patton's moms Mom and Mama. Virgil had gone outside, made friends, rubbed shoulders with Roman and talked books with Logan and chased frogs with Remus. Virgil had—Patton hesitated to say gotten better, but gotten happier. He was alive now in a way he hadn't been back then. He was grumpy and cynical and still a little scared, but he had kept fighting, and he was still alive.

Their friendship was shaped by that. Even though they had changed so much, deep down, Virgil was the quiet little boy sitting in the guest room with his head tucked between his knees. And Patton was the one using every pun in his book to get Virgil to eat.

Patton was the helper, plain and simple. It was his job to make Virgil feel better.

Virgil would hate to hear that. Especially now, when Virgil had mostly overcome his grief. But it was true at heart. Patton was the one who helped. He was friends with Virgil because he made Virgil happy. If he failed, if he put Virgil in danger or made Virgil upset, he wasn't Virgil's friend anymore. Friendship was about helping. So Patton helped.

It was so much easier to help Virgil now. But it was also harder, because without a single problem—lost family, vicious nightmares, destroyed town, anxiety—Patton never knew what to focus on. He helped Virgil indiscriminately, but he always felt like he put emphasis on the wrong things, badgered Virgil about the wrong problems, showed affection in the wrong ways. Just helping wasn't enough anymore. Patton had to learn to talk to Virgil as a friend and not just someone who was hurting. It was a long process, learning that, and sometimes Patton wondered if he'd ever learned it at all.

One of the rules for Virgil? Virgil _never_ talked about his family.

Good job, Janus! You managed to be annoying enough to get Virgil to tear down his walls in order to spite you!

And Virgil was tearing down _all_ of the walls.

"Two sisters," Virgil said to his hands. "One brother. He was a few years older than me, and my sisters were younger. I—" A rock fell from near Virgil's feet, and he yelped, scooting away from it. "I had friends, too. Cousins. Aunts. Uncles. When you're little, your town is the whole world. The only person I knew outside of it was Patton."

Patton tried his hardest to figure out what Janus was thinking. But his face was blank and every step was still sure on the rocks.

"It's terrifying, when you're a kid," Virgil said, "to lose all that. It'd be terrifying for anyone, but—it was all I had, basically. I had nightmares for a while afterwards. It was so hot and bright and I couldn't breathe—it felt like the world was on fire. And it was, sort of. My town—my family—yeah." Virgil swallowed. "I fell down the well. It's the only reason I survived. I fell and broke my leg and waited there. People from other towns came the next day, and I screamed so they could find me. It took them hours to figure out how to get me back up to the surface."

He'd never heard all of this before. At least, not at once. He didn't know about the well.

"It's funny, kind of. Any other day, falling in the well would be dangerous. We always got warned about it as kids." Virgil laughed a little. "But y'know, dragons are more dangerous. When I finally got out of that well, everything around me was smoke and ash. There wasn't any color for miles. It had been a dry season, and most of the houses were wood, so…yeah. The fires spread before anyone could stop them."

Patton really, really wished he could give Virgil a hug. But he was climbing down a cliff. Virgil was too far away.

"Why are you telling me this?" Janus asked. There was a strange note in his voice. Patton was pretty sure he was really saying _stop_. Stop telling me this.

"I dunno," Virgil admitted. "You asked about my parents. And…you asked me to hate you as a person. Not a dragon. I—I can't do that. And that's why."

Patton slipped on a rock and Janus caught him around the waist, not meeting his eyes. Patton flushed at the sudden contact and steadied his feet. Janus let him go far too quickly.

"I didn't personally kill your family," Janus pointed out, and Patton could almost hear the defenses rising up around him.

"I know."

"Not all dragons are the same."

"I know."

"They probably didn't even mean to cause those fires. We don't kill people unless intended."

"I know!"

"Generalizing an entire species based off of one experience is like hating all humanity because once in a while, one of you kills another one! It's ridiculous—"

"I _know!_ " Virgil yelled. "I know, okay? I _know!_ Can't you shut your stupid face for one _second?"_

Virgil grabbed a rock and chucked it off the cliff. It sailed past the birds squawking below and crashed through the treetops.

"I don't even know why I tried to talk about this," Virgil muttered.

"You're looking for someone to blame." Janus took a deep breath, balancing on the path, the wind whipping his hair. "And you're scared of me, so I'm the perfect target. I get it. Just—don't let it get in the way of what we're doing. No, say, having emotional conversations while dangling off a cliff."

"I'm not _scared_ of you!" Virgil protested. But the little crack in his voice said otherwise.

"Kiddo," Patton started to say.

"It's fine, Pat," Virgil interrupted. "You heard Janus. We should focus on climbing."

"Right," Patton said.

So he focused on climbing. It was already getting warmer. The cool wet surface of the cliff was rapidly heating up, and Patton knew that soon, it would be uncomfortably hot. He tried to stick to the shadows, but there were few. The cliff faced due east and was getting a full blast of mid-morning sun. Sweat trickled down his back and pooled in the dips in his palm. He stopped to wipe his hands off, but it never lasted, and it made climbing even more dangerous. His hands kept slipping on the rocks. Janus always reached out to steady him. Patton couldn't see if Janus was doing the same thing for Virgil. It didn't seem like it. Virgil was up higher than Janus, and Janus liked Virgil even less than he liked Patton.

The birds circled below them, getting steadily larger, their raucous screeches always catching Patton off guard. He hummed a lullaby to try and tune them out. It didn't really work. He didn't know what kinds of birds they were—knowing the Woods, it could be anything from eagles to flying horses—but he had the sickening feeling they were vultures. Waiting for Patton to slip. Waiting for Janus to be just a bit too slow.

The path widened, the path narrowed, the path crumbled at the edges and forced Patton to lean against the cliff and inch along a tiny sliver of flat rock. Every time he thought he'd gotten used to the height, he looked down, and his head spun. The trees were closer but not nearly close enough. He'd still plummet to his death if he made the wrong move.

Patton was glad that climbing took up so much of his attention, though. It meant he couldn't dwell on what had just happened. He felt like he should have done more, intervened somehow. Virgil was clearly upset. Janus was not helping. There was a problem and Patton should have fixed it. Instead he'd just stood by, afraid to intervene.

If he wanted to be a peacemaker, he had to try a little bit harder.

Patton was making his way over a collection of reddish rocks when he noticed the path bent into the cliff and disappeared. It took him a minute or so to reach it. The little ledge they had been following dipped into a large cave, then came back out again a few feet away.

"Why aren't you moving?" Janus asked.

"There's a cave," Patton said slowly.

"So? Walk past it."

Patton nodded and approached the cave. It was dark and cool with jagged edges and a few boulders around the sides. On one hand, he longed to stop and rest. His hands and feet were sore, his muscles were tight, his face was sweaty. But the cave made him shiver. He didn't want to find out what kind of animals lived in that cave.

"Keep walking," Janus told him as Patton glanced to the side and scanned the darkness for any sign of movement.

"I am," Patton said.

"Wait." Virgil had reached the edge of the cave. "Guys…can we stop here?"

"Yes, at the mercy of whatever could possibly be living in this cave," Janus said. "Keep walking."

"Sorry, kiddo," Patton said. "We need to keep moving."

"I'm dead on my feet." Virgil stopped walking and crossed his arms. "I bet you're the same, you just won't admit it. If we keep stumbling down that cliff all tired and sore, we're gonna slip and die."

Janus looked at the dark maw of the cave. "We could die waiting here."

"Dying in cool, quiet darkness? I'm okay with that." Virgil shifted. "Please? I—I think it could do us all some good. Pat's been stumbling, and Janus—you've already got that wing injury. We all need the rest."

Patton looked to Janus, who sighed. "Fine. A brief rest."

"You're my new favorite person," Virgil declared, immediately crumpling to the ground and spreading his arms out. "Sweet, sweet solid ground."

Patton sat down at the edge of the cave. He had to admit, the shadows were extremely refreshing. It felt like getting dipped in a lake.

However, the last time he was in a lake, it hadn't ended well.

Janus stayed on his feet. "Are you rested yet?" he asked after maybe two seconds.

"Sit down," Patton encouraged. "We don't want you falling, right?"

Janus hesitated before sitting in the middle of the cave entrance, a few feet from the edge of the cliff. He kept his hands on the ground, ready to spring upright at a moment's notice. Patton wished he could reach out and remove the tension from Janus' shoulders. Janus was always ready for a fight. Admirable, and understandable given the circumstances, but it made Patton kind of sad.

A gust of wind blew out of the cave, sending Janus' hair rustling around him. It looked like a waterfall, the same color as dark chocolate. A bit of it fell away from his face and Patton saw the mottled pink edge of the burn. He quickly looked away.

"I'm hungry," Virgil said to the ceiling of the cave.

"Too bad," Janus said. "We're out of food."

"No, I'm hungry because I smell food." Virgil sat up. "That's not my nose playing tricks on me, right?"

Patton sniffed. There was a distinct smell of fresh fruit. A combination of apples, plums, and cranberries, plus a tart thing he couldn't name. He sniffed again, sure it was a fake scent, but it only seemed to get stronger.

"Trap," Janus said without hesitation.

"Probably," Virgil agreed.

"Yeah," Patton said.

Virgil paused. "Still wanna look, though, 'cause I'm hungry."

"It's coming from inside the cave," Patton said, standing up. "That's strange—why would there be fruit in there?"

"Because it's a trap," Janus said, standing up as well. "Do I have to spell it out for you? T-R-A-P _trap_. It's no scales off our skin if we just stay here. Or better yet, get moving again. We have more than half of the cliff yet to climb."

Virgil bit his lip. "Can we check it out? Just for a second?"

Janus stared at Virgil for a long time. "You know what? Sure. Go get yourself killed. I don't care. It'll deprive me of listening to your idiocy for one more second."

"Thanks for the seal of approval." Virgil climbed to his feet and started walking into the cave. His steps rung out against the stone. "Wish me luck."

"I'm coming too," Patton said, rushing over to Virgil. Together, they looked back at Janus.

Janus sighed so loudly that flames flickered at the edges of his mouth. "I hate both of you."

"Come on!" Patton hurried into the cave, waving a hand.

The first thing he realized was that the cave was dark. He probably should have thought of that sooner. A few steps in, and the light from outside was already dimming. Patton looked back at the opening and saw blue sky, wheeling birds, and Dragon Mountain in the distance. It wasn't too far away. They'd be able to run if they needed to.

He knew he was kidding himself. Anything could be lurking in the shadows of this cave—it was taller and wider than all of them, dwarfing even Janus in his dragon form, filled with pockets of shade and nooks of shadow. A flicker of cold, damp wind ran down Patton's back. He shuddered and pressed closer to Virgil, who reached out and took his hand. Janus came last, fists clenched, watching the walls warily.

Then the cave twisted around a wall. Patton looked at the others—if they went in there, they'd be completely cut off from the outside light. He had a feeling that was not a good sign.

"It doesn't seem to go too far back," Janus said, squinting. "There's something in the way of the wall, though. I can't make it out."

"What?" Virgil asked, pulling out his crossbow.

"It's not moving," Janus said.

"I'll take your word for it," Patton said. He couldn't see anything but darkness. "We should light a candle."

Virgil frowned. "Don't candles, like, explode in caves sometimes? If there's weird gas?"

"I don't smell any weird gas." Patton opened his knapsack and pulled out a candle. "And we've made it this far! Where's my flint?"

"Give it here." Janus took the candle and blew on it. A small spurt of fire flashed from his mouth and caught on the wick. The candle flame grew, stuttering and stammering in the occasional winds, but a mostly steady orange glow.

"Thanks," Patton said. "Hold it up for us?"

Janus stepped forward and held out the candle.

A large shimmering spiderweb stretched across the back of the cave.

Patton squeaked and stepped backwards, stumbling over his feet. Virgil held him steady. "It's fine," Virgil whispered. "No spiders. Just web."

Well, there had to be a spider to make that web, right?

"There are fruits." Janus lowered the candle and cast its light over several piles of things beneath the web. "And bread. And meat? A lot of food."

"I changed my mind," Virgil said. "No food. That's creepy food. Let's get out of here."

"Wait." Patton frowned at the spiderweb. The usual pattern of polygons and striped edges was disrupted by thicker lines that crisscrossed haphazardly. "Is that…is something written on it?"

Janus raised the candle again. Light gleamed along each thread, revealing a message haphazardly scrawled in the webbing.

FOR THE LITTLE FAE AND HIS FRIENDS. EAT WELL. I'LL SEE YOU SOON.

"Huh," Virgil said, breaking the silence. "That's really terrifying. Let's go."

"It's poisoned," Janus agreed. "Definitely poisoned. I have no idea how she found us, but if she's capable of leaving a message, she's capable of getting us here. We should leave."

"Wait," Patton said, stepping forward. Something didn't add up. "Why leave us the food if we'll 'see her soon?'"

"Because it's a trap to get us stuck in the web or something." Virgil primed his crossbow and fired it at the web. The web immediately wrapped around the bolt, cloaking it in silver threads several inches thick. The bolt fell to the ground, smothered in spider silk.

Virgil fired another bolt. That one just bounced off the cave and disappeared.

Patton nodded to himself and stepped forward, grabbing some of the food and putting it in his sack.

"What are you doing?" Janus hissed.

"Pat—" Virgil stepped forward. "Get back."

"We sprung her only trap." Patton slipped a few bunches of grapes into his knapsack. "She wants us to have this food."

"Yeah, because it's probably poisoned or something!" Virgil glanced around. "Pat, don't you remember the rules? Never eat food—"

"—given by a Fae. I know." Patton stared down at the loaf of bread in his hand, hot and steaming. "But…I have a feeling it's safe."

"Gut feelings," Janus snapped. "I told you not to follow those!"

"No, not a magical gut feeling. Just…a hunch." Patton bit his lip. "She wants us to survive. She's got some sort of trap laid, and she wants us not to starve so she can spring it."

"Reassuring," Virgil said.

"Look." Patton stood up and tied up his knapsack, full to bursting with fruits. "I'm taking the food, and so far, it hasn't hurt me. We can decide whether to eat it later. Just—it can't hurt to have it with us, right?"

"It'll weigh us down," Janus muttered, but he was already kneeling.

Virgil grumbled for a few more seconds before reaching out and sliding a few pears into his knapsack. "You'd better be right about this," he said to Patton.

"I hope I am," Patton said.

When their knapsacks were full, Janus ushered them out of the cave. For a horrible second, Patton was afraid that they wouldn't find the exit, that the cave had closed and blocked them in forever. But they turned the corner and saw the light, the edge of the cliff, the dazzling blue sky. Virgil almost ran forward.

"See?" Patton asked. "Not so bad, Janus."

"We'll regret this," Janus warned, but there was no bite to his words.

"I feel kind of good now," Virgil said, walking over to the cliff. "Like I could tackle the world!" He glanced down and swallowed. "Whoops, okay, never mind."

"We made it this far," Patton said, adjusting his knapsack. "We can make it the rest of the way. Right?"

"No time to waste." Janus slipped past them and balanced on the edge, walking towards the other end of the path. He grabbed the side of the cliff and managed to walk in a straight line for a few seconds, before giving in and turning to face the cliff again. Patton followed him, feeling a little more rejuvenated. Virgil came last, already starting to swear.

Immediately all the rest fled Patton's bones. It took about two seconds for his feet to start hurting again, and five seconds for the scratches on his fingers to open up and sting again, and ten seconds for his entire body to ache with tiredness. He was back in the glaring sun, burning up like an ant under a magnifying glass, pressed to a searing rock wall with a dizzying drop below.

Virgil swore cheerfully as a small rock fell past them towards the birds below. The birds seemed to be closer, or they were just larger than Patton had thought. Or both.

Janus was practically hugging the cliff, fingers digging into the rock. With Janus taking the lead, Patton's own steps became more sure, since he could watch Janus' feet and follow his exact path. But he didn't have Janus there to catch him. Virgil did his best, but Virgil didn't have the quick reflexes that Janus did. So Patton felt more marooned than ever.

But when Janus stumbled, Patton reached out and caught him. It was an instinctive response. He wrapped his hand around Janus' wrist, dug his feet into the path, and leaned towards the cliff. Janus caught the edge of the cliff and found his balance. Patton let go of Janus' wrist like it had burned him. He felt like it had. Janus' skin was cool and somehow more searing than the sun itself.

It was silent, except for the occasional gusts of wind over the treetops, Virgil's merry swearing, and the squawking of the birds below. The birds seemed to only be getting louder. Patton risked a glance down, and saw that they were congregating even closer. They…were they birds? They didn't look like birds. They had wings, but those were four legs. And was that a tail?

"Jan?" Patton asked.

"What," Janus snapped, trying to squeeze between two rather large rocks.

"You know those birds we keep hearing?"

"Yes?"

"They're getting closer?" Patton gathered his courage. "And, um, they don't look like birds."

"What do you mean, they don't look like—" Janus glanced down and his eyes widened. "Those definitely aren't birds."

"What are they?" Virgil twisted around and almost fell off the cliff. "Okay. That's…that's weird. That's not good. Janus, what _are_ they?"

"Gryphons." Janus started to climb faster. "This is not good."

"Gryphons?" Patton repeated, his voice pitching up. "I don't like that!"

"They're nasty," Janus agreed. "Pack animals. Their beaks are sharp, but it's the claws you really need to watch out for. Hopefully they haven't noticed us."

"We've been up here all morning." Virgil's voice shook. "They've definitely seen us by now."

"They must be waiting." Janus looked down again. "I don't like this at all."

"Maybe they won't attack?" Patton asked, knowing he was grasping at straws. "Maybe they're bored or don't believe in violence."

"They're scavengers," Janus said. "So they will only not attack if they think we're falling anyway. Since we're not?"

The screeching below them was reaching a fever pitch. Patton's hands slipped from the cliff and he steadied himself, trying to breathe.

"When?" Virgil asked, his voice shaking even more.

"Any moment now."

"What should we do?" Patton asked. "Stop moving? Keep moving?"

Janus opened his mouth and closed it again. "Nothing. If I could fly, we might have a chance, but—there's really nothing we can do. Not on a cliff."

"We can't just wait here!" Virgil said, fumbling for his crossbow. He teetered on the edge of the cliff and Patton grabbed his shirt. "We gotta—"

There was a loud swoosh and Virgil swore. Patton blinked. Whatever had happened, it was too fast for him to see. Just a flash of feathers and talons.

Virgil bent over, cupping his face. Blood dripped between his fingers. It splashed onto the rocks. A few wayward drops plummeted to the trees far below. They were so close—Patton could make out the path twisting through the Woods, could see where the cliff leveled out—but there was an hour of climbing between them and the ground.

Another swoosh, this one nearer. Patton tried to flinch away. By the time he moved, the gryphon was already gone, leaving a few bloody scratches on Janus' wrist.

"Keep moving," Janus managed, wiping the cuts off on his shirt. The stains were vibrant against his yellow shirt. "That's all we can do."

"Keep moving. Easy." Virgil inched forward. A flash of wings so close that Patton felt them on his nose. Virgil swore loudly again, diving out of the way.

And Patton saw the gryphon. It perched on a rock above Virgil's head. It was large, larger than Patton expected. Its fur was sleek and black with a coiled tail and a large golden beak. Its claws dug into the rock, little bits crumbling off and falling down below. It opened its beak and screeched.

Patton winced and tried to cover his ears. The moment he shifted, he almost fell off the cliff.

The gryphon dove again. Patton's heart stopped. He stumbled backwards aimlessly, clinging to the rocks. A blossom of pain formed on his chest. He gasped as blood began to soak his shirt. The gryphon wheeled away, still screeching, golden claws tipped with red.

"You okay?" Virgil asked.

"It only skimmed me," Patton said, his voice shaking. If he had been a second slower, it could have ripped his heart out.

"Keep moving!" Janus ordered. He took a step forward and another gryphon divebombed him, claws outstretched. Janus batted at it, lost his hold on the rocks, and teetered over the cliff. Patton grabbed him. His hand left bloody fingerprints on Janus' shirt.

"We can't," Virgil said, priming his crossbow. The tip wobbled. He aimed it at the gryphons above, the gryphons below, a gryphon that nicked Patton's cheek. One bolt was fired. Miraculously, it hit the wing of a gryphon, sending the animal caterwauling its way down the cliff. The other gryphons didn't seem bothered by the loss of their friend. Why would they? There must have been two dozen of them. Maybe three dozen.

They dove. They dove again. Virgil fired randomly. Janus doubled over from a slash to the gut. Patton got a cut across the forehead. Virgil lost a chunk of his ear. Virgil's swearing was loud, but louder was the calls of the gryphons, and loudest was Patton's blood rushing in his skull.

Patton tried to scoot along the path. Blood dripped down his face and splattered on the rock. It was sticky and slippery at the same time. It kept him in place and loosened his grip. He fell backwards and steadied himself, miniscule pebbles away from empty air, Janus bleeding and Virgil running out of bolts, gryphons diving in a flurry of wings.

Swish. Virgil yelped and pressed himself into the cliff.

Swish. Janus batted at the wrong side of his face.

Swish. Patton tried to kick a gryphon and teetered in place.

Swish. A cut lip.

Swish. A bleeding shoulder.

Swish. Claws grabbing for a throat, too close for comfort.

Swish, swish, swish.

Blood, yelling, the last bolt disappearing to the forest below.

They were going to die here. They were frozen, pressed against the cliff, and they were going to die here.

Patton's eyes stung. He barely noticed. His chest hurt far worse. His whole body hurt. He felt slippery and shivery and one wrong move away from coming apart.

"What are we going to do?" Virgil asked, his voice raw. "Janus, _please_ , tell us what to do."

Janus ran a sleeve across his face. It only smeared the blood down his cheek. The blood mixed with the burns, pink and red and yellow eyes and a half-open mouth. His knuckles were white on the rocks. He stared down at the gryphons. He swallowed. There was a little catch in his throat.

"I don't know," Janus said.

Patton didn't hear him over the ruckus. But he could see the little shake of Janus' head and figure it out from there.

"I don't know," Janus must have said, and now they were going to _die_.

Patton looked down at the trees and wondered if he'd survive the fall.

There was another swish. He didn't bother to move out of the way. What good would it do? The gryphons were swifter than Patton by far. Claws sliced through the air next to his leg. They missed by an inch.

He could barely stand, much less walk. Much less climb down the rest of a cliff.

Virgil was swearing again, his voice breaking on every other word. Patton was tempted to join in. But his mouth was dry. Funny, the rest of him was slick with blood.

"Leave us alone!" Janus yelled at the gryphons, trying to throw a punch. Janus still fought to the end, didn't he? Admirable. Useless, but admirable.

Virgil's swearing grew louder and louder. It mingled with the shrieks and Janus' own yelps of pain and Patton's pounding heartbeat. It was a cacophony of sounds. Patton closed his eyes and pressed himself against the cliff wall. He didn't want to see the world anymore. He wanted to try and magic their way out of this. He was a Fae, after all. Why hadn't he gotten any useful powers? Why was it only weaknesses? Why couldn't he teleport, curse the gryphons, keep his friends from harm? Useless. _Useless_. All he was good for was being the support, the backup chorus, the helper. And he couldn't even do _that_. When it came down to the line, Patton was a failure.

He clenched his teeth and tried to draw on magic. There _had_ to be some. There had to be something to save them. It couldn't just end here! They couldn't die thanks to _gryphons_. Logan and Remus still needed them.

Swearing. Shrieking. A swish that made Janus yell in pain. Another swish.

A scream.

Not the scream of a gryphon. A person's scream.

Virgil's scream.

Patton's eyes flew open.

Virgil was falling. His crossbow slipped from his hands. His face was sticky with blood. His eyes flashed with terror. Patton seemed to watch in slow motion as his feet left the ledge.

Patton didn't even think. He lunged towards Virgil, arm out.

His fingers met fabric. Virgil's jacket.

Then Virgil fell against the cliff and Patton almost yelled. He fell to his knees, grasping at Virgil's jacket, his fingers refusing to stay still. Virgil was slipping. Patton's arm ached like it was tearing apart at the joints. Virgil was still screaming, scrabbling wildly at the cliff, unable to find a handhold.

"Stay put!" Patton pleaded, trying to haul Virgil up. It was a no-go. Patton wasn't strong enough for that.

A gryphon divebombed them, and Virgil twisted to the side to avoid it. Patton stumbled and found himself leaning towards the edge.

He was going to fall. They were both going to fall.

"Let go!" Virgil yelled, grabbing at Patton's hand.

"No," Patton insisted. He needed to pull Virgil up. Virgil couldn't fall.

A hand grabbed the back of Patton's shirt. Janus.

A swish. A stabbing pain in Patton's arm. He fell forward, leaning on a rock, trying to catch his breath. Everything was spinning. Virgil was still dangling. The fabric was slipping from Patton's fingers.

Virgil slipped.

Patton grabbed his hand.

The hand slipped.

Patton held tighter.

Patton slipped.

Janus' hand tightened on Patton's shirt.

Patton scrambled for a purchase.

Virgil hung at the end of his arm, kicking wildly, batting at the gryphons who circled them, a few curiously flying through and slashing Virgil in the leg. Blood dripped from him all the way down to the trees. Such a long way down.

A swish. Patton fell forward.

No!

"No!" That was Janus. "Pat—"

"Pull us up," Patton pleaded. He knew Janus couldn't. He knew Janus wasn't strong enough to save two people at once.

"I can't." Patton managed to twist around and look Janus in the face. Blood and burns and gashes along his hairline. He somehow managed to look in control, even balanced on a cliff, arm trembling. His eyes flashed as a gryphon skimmed his head.

"I can't," Janus repeated. It looked like the words caused him physical pain. Or maybe it was the injuries.

"I know," Patton whispered. He tried vainly to tug Virgil up. But his muscles wouldn't work. His body had given up already. It knew he wouldn't be able to find his balance. Wouldn't be able to save Virgil. Wouldn't win this. All he could do was hold on and balance on the edge of a cliff. All he could do was stay put.

"I—" An emotion flew over Janus' face, quick as a gryphon. "You need—fall."

"What?"

"Fall. Let yourself fall." Janus stared into Patton's eyes. "Both of you. I will catch you, but you need to fall."

"You're kidding," Virgil yelled, his voice raspy. "We're gonna die!"

"We're going to die either way!" Janus yelled back. "It's dangerous up here! On any other day, I wouldn't risk it, but the only way to survive is to fall. Sometimes that's what you have to do."

Virgil was quiet.

"I promise I'll catch you," Janus pleaded. "I promise."

Did Patton trust Janus? Sure. With a plan. With a witty retort. With being a jerk.

With his _life?_

Janus needed them. Janus wanted to get them to safety. Janus wanted his own safety.

And Janus looked desperate. Afraid. Close to tears. It was the kind of thing nobody could fake.

"Catch me?" Patton asked. His voice barely reached above the screeching. He was sure Janus hadn't heard.

But Janus nodded.

"Now?" Patton asked.

Janus nodded again.

Patton closed his eyes. Screeching and swearing and—no. No sounds.

He felt, instead. He felt Virgil's hand in his, tight and warm. He felt Janus' arm around his back. He felt the rocks digging into his feet. He felt the burst of air on his neck as a gryphon passed by. He felt the blood pooling on his skin.

He felt the place where he needed to let go. Where his hand was dug into the rock. Where his nails scraped the dirt. He just had to unclench that hand.

He was dangling, he knew it. He was going to fall. He was going to fall and die and kill Virgil and why was he trusting Janus—

"Please," Janus said again, placing one hand over Patton's. Prying at his fingers. His hand was cool and covered in little scratches and unclenched Patton's knuckles, one by one.

Patton breathed out.

He let go.

And the world fell around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *aladdin voice* do you trust me


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: falling, injury, hiding said injury

Wind whistled in his ears. His eyes opened of their own accord. He was staring up at the sky. He could see the mountain peak, gray rock and spiky green trees against blue sky. It was such a nice day. Shame he had to die on a nice day like that.

Were those the gryphons, those black smears? Patton was falling too fast to see. He kept his hand clenched around Virgil's. His hair whipped around his face, curls flying each and every which way. His glasses teetered on the edge of his nose. He closed his eyes again. His heartbeat had stopped entirely, waiting, bracing for impact.

Then there was impact. But not what he imagined. Not the dull thump of ground.

Claws, curled around his chest. Patton opened his eyes one more time.

Large, thin wings. Black and yellow scales. Wind that started to move sideways. Towards the path below. A descent, but controlled. A glide.

Patton looked to Virgil and grabbed Virgil's other hand, pulling Virgil closer. Virgil didn't hesitate to grab Janus' legs and hold on.

It was a terrible position. It must be hurting Janus. But they were still flying. Still in the air. Which was all that mattered right now.

The trees were growing in size. Would they miss the path? Would they overshoot and land in some Fae's den? Would they crash into the trees and dash their brains out on the bark?

Patton sounded like Remus. That was enough thinking, then. Patton hugged Janus' side and hoped instead. He hoped they'd be okay. He hoped they'd keep flying. He hoped he'd hit solid ground soon.

Janus had caught them. Janus kept his promise, which meant they would be okay.

They had to be.

The ground was getting closer. Sky, ground, trees, Virgil. Everything spun. Something roared, or maybe that was just the wind rushing in Patton's ears.

They were heading towards a tree. Tree! Patton shrieked and tried to twist away from it.

The tree soared past them by a millisecond. A branch caught Patton in the face.

The path rose up to meet them.

Impact.

It was like the snake all over again. Large and weighty and almost too sudden to hurt. Patton lost his grip on Janus' scales. He tried to roll but only managed to weakly fall to the side. The world spun around him. Everything was darkening. Funny—it shouldn't be evening yet.

Patton shook his head, setting off little fireworks of pain behind his eyes. Had Janus landed on top of him or something? Something was pressing him to the ground. His arms and legs refused to move. They throbbed dimly, and Patton had a feeling it would hurt something awful later, but for now they didn't seem to have processed anything. Shock. Was he in shock? He didn't feel very shocked, but he didn't feel much of anything. Was he going to pass out?

No, he couldn't pass out, what would Virgil do—

Virgil!

Patton threw himself upright. Pain lashed his back and more blood dripped down his shirt. He ignored it. He wildly looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was lying on the path, only inches from a line of iron rods. Patton scooted away from it. Trees hung around them. Branches littered the path. There was a large section of sky directly above them that didn't look natural. Little broken branches and torn-up leaves lined the edge.

Had they done that?

Patton eased himself to his feet. He took off his glasses, wiped the blood off them, and put them back on. The world fell into place a little more. He looked down at himself. He was bloody and his overalls had been torn in several places. The light blue stripes on his shirt were barely visible.

Well, he was alive, and that's what counted.

Patton knew he had to turn and look for Janus and Virgil. He knew it. But he didn't want to. He didn't want to know what he was going to find.

"Guys?" he asked the Woods in front of him, voice wavering. Please, _please_ let someone respond.

There was a long silence broken only by distant screeching and the rustle of trees. A bird piped nearby, three long notes, a descending scale, bouncing to the top and rolling to the bottom and starting over again.

"Virgil?" Patton called. "Janus?"

He still didn't want to look.

"Ugh." Something shifted. "Pat?"

Patton almost wept with relief. He spun around and saw Virgil, sitting on the path, rubbing his shoulder. Virgil looked up and smiled.

"Kiddo!" Patton cried. He rushed over and kneeled by Virgil. "You okay?"

"I—I think?" Virgil winced. "Everything kinda hurts."

"Yeah," Patton said sympathetically. "We fell pretty hard."

"We fell," Virgil repeated, like it hadn't fully sunk in. "We fell off a _cliff_."

Patton looked up. He could see the peak of the mountain far away from them, the sheer cliff face towering above the trees. "Yeah. Hard to believe."

"I thought we were dead." Virgil shook his head. "We're not dead, right?"

"No." Patton took Virgil's hand and pressed it to his wrist. A heartbeat, a little fast but steady. "No, Virge, we're okay."

"We made it." Virgil's face broke into a huge grin. "Pat, we made it!"

And Patton received an armful of Virgil. He awkwardly hugged Virgil back as Virgil laughed or cried into Patton's shoulder. Either way, no judgment. Patton stroked his back in circles and let Virgil tremble in his arms for a long time. He half-expected Janus to yell at them for wasting time, but Janus could keep that to himself. Virgil needed the rest, and—

The last fuzzy bit of Patton's mind clicked into place.

"Janus!" Patton yelled, standing up. He'd forgotten Virgil was still hugging him. Virgil yelped and stumbled.

"Sorry," Patton muttered, scanning the trees. The path behind them was empty. The path ahead of them was—

There. Crumpled on the ground.

Patton ran down the path, Virgil still clutching his hand. He fell to his knees again when they reached Janus. Virgil squatted on Janus' other side.

Janus himself was silent, his eyes closed, hair falling across his face. Scratches littered his face and arms. Blood soaked his shirt. The hat Patton made had been torn to shreds.

"Janus?" Patton asked. He knew Janus wouldn't answer. Sure enough, there was no movement.

"Is—" Virgil swallowed, looking sick. "I don't know if he's alive."

Patton reached out and took Janus' hand. It was limp. He pressed his fingers to Janus' wrist, closed his eyes, and waited.

A dull thump. Then another.

Patton beamed. "He's alive."

"Great," Virgil said. Maybe it was meant to be sarcastic, but it didn't sound insincere. Virgil placed his hand over Janus' mouth. "He's breathing, too. It's steady."

"Thank heavens." Patton reached for Janus and stopped himself. "What…what do we do?"

"I don't know." Virgil poked Janus' nose. "Try to wake him up, I guess."

"Jan?" Patton asked, shaking Janus' shoulder. "C'mon."

Virgil swatted Janus in the forehead. "Hey. Get up, idiot."

"Come on," Patton pleaded. His voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, and he realized tears were threatening to spill over. "Please, please, come on, wake up, _please_ —"

"Pat?" Virgil asked, reaching for Patton's hand.

Patton shook Janus again. Those yellow eyes didn't open. Patton had a sickening memory of the last time he'd seen Janus unconscious. Back in the courtyard. He'd been lucky to survive that time—they'd all been so lucky. Maybe it was Fae luck, maybe it was plain old regular luck, maybe it was the skill Janus had to always avoid consequences.

Maybe the rest of the world had finally caught up to him.

"You can't," Patton said to no one. "You can't die. You _can't!_ You're—it's not _right_ , we need you, we—I—come on, _please_ , Janus—"

"Hey!" Virgil punched Janus in the arm. "Get up! You're making Patton sad, and that's not allowed!"

"Don't punch him," Patton complained, moving Janus out of Virgil's punching range. He found himself with an armful of Janus. He was so _light_. He shouldn't be this light! His head lolled onto Patton's chest. On any other day, Patton would be overjoyed to finally get to hug Janus. This…was not what he wanted. It was like their talk with the Faerie all over again—Janus was not meant to be silent. He was meant to be loud and annoying and sarcastic and mean and pretty and strangely kind and _alive_.

Patton brushed a few locks of hair out of Janus' face. They were sticky with blood.

"I have an idea," Virgil said, reaching for his canteen.

"What is it?" Patton asked, curling around Janus protectively.

Virgil popped the canteen open and grinned.

"Hey," Patton said. "Don't!"

"What? It might work!" Virgil's expression softened. "It's worth a shot, Pat."

Patton bit his lip. "I guess. Just don't waste too much water—we'll need it to clean our cuts. And, um, let me get him off my lap first?"

"Right." Virgil scooted forward. "Prepare for a soaking, snake. I'm gonna drown you back to life!"

"Please don't," Janus complained.

Patton gasped. Janus' eyes were still closed, but his face had gained his telltale wrinkle of annoyance, and he was shifting in Patton's arms.

"You're okay!" Patton squealed, and Janus' eyes flew open. "Oh my gosh, we were so worried! Thank heavens you're awake!"

"What?" Janus looked around. "Why am I—let _go_ of me!"

"Oh! Sorry, Jan!" Patton slid Janus onto the path. Janus immediately tried to stand up. He managed both feet before he flinched and slipped to the ground again.

"Watch it," Virgil said. "You've probably got a broken bone."

"None of my bones are broken," Janus snapped.

"Do you know that?"

Janus curled in on himself. "Leave me alone."

"We're just trying to help." Patton sidled closer to him. "Could you tell us where it hurts?"

"Nowhere," Janus snarled. "Get away from me."

"Okay," Patton said, pausing and holding up his hands. "I won't go any nearer. I'm only trying to make sure you're okay."

"I'm _fine_." Janus climbed to his feet, despite Virgil's growl of "You're kidding me." He swayed a bit but somehow managed to stay upright. "Tell me if my stuff is still here."

"Your knapsack?" Patton asked. "Haven't seen it. It probably fell off. But—"

"Should have known." Janus stalked forward. Blood dripped from the edge of his shirt onto the forest floor, and he made a stifled hiss every time his foot hit the ground. "Come on, we've wasted enough time."

"Wait—" Patton tried to get up to follow Janus. His legs screamed in protest. "Janus!"

"Get back here, you little—" Virgil grabbed his crossbow and chucked it at Janus. It fell to the ground behind Janus' feet. "That's because I ran out of bolts. Stop _walking_ , snake."

"I thought you wanted to get moving," Janus said, not turning around.

"Yeah, but—" Virgil made a strangled noise of frustration. "Jan, you're in _pain!"_

"I am _not_."

"You clearly are!" Virgil looked about to tear his hair out. "You're gonna get yourself killed—get _all_ of us killed—'cause you won't admit you're hurt! You're _insufferable!"_

"Shut up!" Janus hissed. "Come with me, watch your step, and shut _up!"_

Patton watched the way Janus' shoulders tightened, the way his feet seemed to trip over nothing at all, the way he listed to the side. The splatters of blood behind him, forming a gruesome trail of breadcrumbs.

"Janus," he called, trying to throw everything into that word. His concern. His fear. His thankfulness. Janus had saved them, and he was wounded thanks to it, and Patton didn't know what to make of that.

"Get up," Janus only said, giving Patton a cold look.

Patton swallowed. Okay. Not working. Janus was clearly dead set on walking off his injuries. But—if he was forced to stay—

"Fine," Patton said. "Keep walking! But my kiddo and I are going to stay here for a little bit! Virgil's wounded, and—" Patton looked down at his own chest and swallowed. " _I'm_. I'm hurt. So…I want to rest. Because I need it. _We_ need it."

Janus had stopped walking.

"And we don't want to lose you." Patton swallowed again. "We agreed not to run off, remember? No splitting up. So…can you stay with us, just for a bit?"

"I—" Janus sighed. "Fine. We can't have you collapsing, after all. I'll stay over here, and you two can bandage yourselves or something."

"Thank you," Patton said, and found himself meaning it. "But—um, I'm not very good at medical care. So—"

Janus sat down on the path, tucking his legs to his chest. "I'm not, either."

"I could still use the help." Patton glanced at Virgil. "Right, kiddo?"

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "We can use you to test if the bandages are idiot-proof."

"Virgil!" Patton exclaimed.

Janus snorted, just a bit. And he unfolded himself again, walked over, and tentatively sat by Patton's side. Patton winced when he saw Janus' limp. He wished he didn't have to make Janus walk back, but he needed Janus here if he was going to sneakily bandage his injuries.

"So," Patton said, turning to Virgil. "How're you feeling, kiddo?"

"Not great," Virgil said. "Bunch of scratches."

"We'll tend to those in a bit." Patton opened his knapsack and pulled out the first-aid kit. "Where's the pain greatest?"

"My ear's bleeding a lot," Virgil said, cupping the ear in question. Blood was dripping from it, forming a little river down his neck. "My shoulder hurts more, though."

"We'll do the shoulder first," Patton said. "Ears bleed a good amount. You could have torn something in your shoulder. Can I see it?"

Virgil took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. There was a long, thin gash over his shoulder. Blood leaked from the corners. Patton's stomach twisted.

"Right," he said, trying to stay upbeat. "Janus? Pass me Virgil's canteen?"

Janus did.

"Thanks!" Patton reached forward and carefully took Virgil's arm in his palm. Virgil hissed. "Okay, this might hurt, so I'll go slow."

Virgil nodded and clenched his jaw.

Patton dribbled a little water on Virgil's cut, grabbed a clean cloth from the first-aid bag, and began to wipe at the cut. Virgil tensed and dug his fingers into his calf. Patton reached out and pried his hand away from his leg, taking it in his own. There was a lot of blood and a bit of dirt, but after it had been cleaned up, the cut itself wasn't too deep. Thank the fields. Patton sighed in relief and took the bandages from Janus' outstretched hand. They were running out of bandages already, he noted. Well. Nothing to do about that now.

Janus held Virgil's arm in place while Patton wrapped the cut. Since it was on Virgil's shoulder, it was a little awkward to bind, but he managed to do it and even tie a little bow over top. Virgil ran his fingers over the bandages and smiled a bit.

"That okay?" Patton asked.

"It's great." Virgil flexed his arm. "Doesn't hurt too much to move."

"I'm glad!" Patton wiped his bloody fingers on his overalls. "It's not perfect, but hopefully it'll keep the bleeding away, and once we rescue Logan and Remus we can get you better bandages."

Virgil nodded. Patton handed him the canteen and a few bits of cloth.

"Rinse out your smaller cuts," Patton said. "If there's anything else big, let me know, okay? I'll patch it up for you. Cycle through cloths so they don't get dirty. And be gentle around the edges, but be thorough, and—"

"I know how to clean a cut," Virgil said, smiling. "Worry about yourself, Pat. I'll be alright."

"Awesome!" Patton glanced at his own blood-soaked front. "Yay. Let's, um, let's do this."

"Oh, come here." Janus grabbed the bandages and the rest of the cloth. "We've only got one canteen—Virgil, give me some water. Please."

"Sure, snake." Virgil slid the canteen over as he wiped away blood from his chin. "Don't hog it all."

"Great." Janus looked Patton over. "Take off your shirt."

"What?" Patton blushed violently. "I—I'm wearing overalls, I can't."

Janus rolled his eyes. "Take off your overalls and roll up your shirt, then. I can't clean the cut without seeing it."

Patton paused, but he knew Janus was right. Carefully he loosened his overall straps and pulled it down to his waist. Then he gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to his shoulders. It gave way with a small squelch. The smell of blood filled the air, salty and thick.

Janus stared at Patton's chest for a few seconds. Patton flushed even deeper.

"That's…a pretty ugly cut," Janus finally said. "A few of them, in fact."

"Damn," Virgil agreed, his tone betraying his concern. "You're bleeding a lot, Pat."

Patton looked down. His chest was almost a sea of blood and a few violent scratches slashed across his abdomen. He quickly looked away again.

"Hold still," Janus instructed, shifting closer and splashing some water on the cuts. He pressed some cloth to the wounds. "I'm trying to get it to stop bleeding."

"Thanks," Patton said again, dutifully ignoring the fact that they were inches apart and Janus was touching his chest.

"It would be a shame if you died of blood loss," Janus said idly, "so I'm doing a community service. How does it—tell me how it feels."

Patton thought about it. It wasn't as searing as he thought it would be, but maybe that was because his whole body had hurt for days now, and he was kind of tired of being in pain. "It's fine."

"Is it now." Janus started wiping at the blood. "Do tell me how fine it is, Patton. I'm totally not currently cleaning your blood or anything."

"It—" Patton whined as Janus hit a tender spot. Janus paused and glanced up at him. Patton gave him a little nod to continue. "It's not terrible," Patton finally said. "It hurts when I move, but if I stay still, it's more like an ache."

"That's good," Janus said. "Unless you're lying to me?"

Patton spluttered his way through a denial. And Janus laughed, a soft smug sound that made Patton's stomach flip for a reason other than disgust.

"Relax, I'm kidding." Janus returned to wiping at the cut, a smile still playing around his lips. "Of course I'm kidding. You're a terrible liar, I would be able to tell."

"Oh, really?" Patton asked. "Well, I might need some proof of that, mister!"

Janus chuckled. "Tell me a story, then, and I'll tell you as soon as I know it's a lie."

"Hmph." Patton searched around for a suitable tale. He decided on one of Roman's embellished stories. "Um, one time I was with Virgil—"

"Tell me when," Janus said.

"September," Patton blurted out. "Um, yeah! We were walking together in town, and this cat came up to us. And I'm allergic to cats."

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I'm really allergic!" Patton giggled. "I break out in hives, have trouble breathing, everything! I went to the apothecary and got a draught for it, but it doesn't always work. So I'm supposed to stay away from cats."

Janus glanced at him. "Let me guess. You don't."

"They're so _cute_ ," Patton said. "And they've got these little white paws, and these long whiskers, and you can rub their belly and they purr so _loud_ , and their fur is so floofy, and their ears are little and pointy and twist about, and they've got little pink noses perfect for booping, and—"

"Booping," Janus repeated.

"You know, booping?" When Janus didn't show any sign of recognition, Patton frowned. "You've never been booped? Can I boop you?"

Janus looked wary. "Is it painful?"

"Nope! Look!" Patton reached out and pressed a finger to Janus' nose. "Boop!"

Janus went cross-eyed trying to look at Patton's finger. "I totally understand that."

"It's fun! And it always makes Virgil giggle!" Patton booped Janus again. "Does it make you giggle too?" Boop. "I bet it does!" Boop. "I see that smile!" Boop. "C'mon, I wanna hear you laugh again, it's so cute!" Boop. "Don't swat my hand! You can't hide from me!" Boop. "Aw, you cutie, I can see you giggling!"

Janus pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his laughter. "I'm not laughing," he said. His little chuckle in the middle said otherwise. "Stop trying to distract me. I'm cleaning your chest, and you're telling me a lie."

"Right," Patton said. "So this cat, it comes up to us, right? It's really, really cute. And Virgil tells me not to pet it, 'cause I'm allergic, but I accept death."

Janus was back to business again, tossing a bloodied cloth aside and reaching for a new one. "Virgil could have stopped you."

"He knows not to get between me and a cat!"

"But he just did, verbally."

Patton cast around for an explanation. "Not physically, though. I become a demon when small cute animals are around. And Virgil had a, um, broken arm! So he couldn't have stopped me."

"A broken arm." Janus began to wrap bandages around Patton's chest. "Do tell me how that happened."

"He fell down the stairs!"

Virgil gave Patton a betrayed glare. Patton smiled sheepishly.

"He fell down the stairs." Janus chuckled again. Gosh, that was the best sound! "Okay, carry on."

"Yeah." Patton mentally rewound his story. "Virgil couldn't stop me from petting the cat. So I pet the cat and went on my way, since we had errands to do—"

"Errands." Janus savored the word, and Patton could hear the question in it. But it wasn't an actual question. None of them were. And that—that felt so…freeing. Conversation was no longer painful. Janus was going out of his way to make Patton comfortable.

What kind of evil person did _that?_

"Errands," Patton agreed, nodding. "We were, um, going to market. To get some, um, strawberries!"

Janus' eyes flickered over Patton's face. "I thought it was September."

Patton squeaked. Oops. "Um, very late strawberries?"

Janus laughed. Yep. Best sound ever. "Good try, Patton."

"Hey, I got pretty far!" Patton pouted. "It's so hard to keep my story straight! Partly because I'm gay, but all those little strings are tough to keep track of!"

"That's what they say," Janus said. "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything." He huffed. "Personally, I have a fantastic memory, and telling lies is often easier. So 'they' are wrong."

"Easier?" Patton asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

"And more fun." Janus wrapped Patton's bandages tighter. "Tell me if this hurts."

"It's snug, but it doesn't hurt." Patton fumbled for the right words. "Jan…you lie. A lot."

"How'd you know?" Janus asked, smirking a bit.

"Yeah. But—why?" Patton shrugged. "I mean, I get some of them, but…why others?"

Janus was visibly tense now. Virgil sat behind him, still methodically cleaning his cuts, studiously avoiding the conversation altogether.

"I—" Janus' face did a little twist that was gone before Patton could decipher it. "Lies are safer."

"Safer? For who?"

"Everyone." Janus stretched the ends of the bandages out. "Me."

"You?" Patton didn't have to keep his voice soft. It softened all on its own. "It's safer for you?"

Janus slipped one end under the other and started to tie them with deft fingers. "That's one way of putting it."

Patton steeled himself. "Is that why you won't tell us you're hurt?"

Janus' fingers spasmed on Patton's bandages. He recovered in an instant and knotted Patton's bandages together. "I finished," he announced. "If it's not too tight, try to twist around in it, or stand up."

"Janus," Patton said. "You're allowed to be hurt."

"Rich, coming from you," Janus snapped. That would have hurt before Patton got to know Janus. Now he saw the desperation in the jab, the way Janus was lashing out in his own defense. It wasn't a real insult. Janus didn't mean it. He was just—he was just like Virgil. Scared, and pretending he was angry so he seemed in control.

"We won't hurt you," Patton said instead of everything else. "I promise."

Janus' face darkened and he stood up abruptly. "How do you two feel?" he asked. "Can you walk? Patton, not addressed to you, feel no obligation to answer."

"I think so," Virgil said, tossing a bloody cloth into the Woods. He pulled himself to his feet. "Yeah, that stings, but it's not too bad."

"We can always rest if you need to," Patton said. "And we'll take things slow, okay, kiddo?"

"Got it." Virgil looked at Patton. "How's—hope you're feeling alright."

"I'm okay." Patton pulled his shirt down, smoothing the bandages and reconnecting his overalls. Standing seemed kind of daunting. So he took it one step at a time. He placed his hands on the ground, shifted his weight to his feet, and crouched for a few seconds until the stinging faded. Then he unfolded his knees, pushed off his hands, and stumbled to a standing position.

"Nice job!" Virgil said. "You're still good."

"I'm still good," Patton agreed, giving Virgil a little thumbs-up. It pulled at his bandages but didn't hurt. He felt okay—better than he had on the cliff. Blood still covered some of his smaller scratches, but there wasn't time or a place for a long bath or cleaning session, so he'd have to make the most of it.

They were okay. Patton was okay. Virgil was okay. Janus was—well, alive. And Patton couldn't ask for more than that.

Then Janus began to lead the way again. Okay, Patton was going to ask for a little more than that.

"Janus," he called.

"Tell me if there's a problem." Janus looked back. "With you."

"There—there is." Patton stepped forward. "If there's a problem with you, that's a problem for all of us. We're a team. We _communicate_. Please. Jan—can you let me take a look? For me?"

Janus was silent for a long time. Patton didn't like when Janus had his back to them. It made it even harder to reach him, even harder to figure out what he was thinking, but Patton wasn't any good at those normally, anyway.

"Will you use this against me?" Janus asked.

It was a question. And Janus knew exactly what he was doing.

"No," Patton said before the pain could rise. "Never."

Because he wouldn't. That was just _wrong_. And mean. And it wouldn't help anyone. And Janus didn't deserve that.

"Hey," Virgil said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Don't do that. No questions. Jerk."

"I—" Janus turned around and looked almost apologetic. "I only wanted to make sure. I won't do it again."

"You'd better not," Virgil mumbled.

"Come on." Patton sat down and patted the spot next to him. "Sit down, Jan."

Virgil sat down as well. Janus cautiously walked forward. Every muscle in his body was still tense, like he was awaiting execution. Patton wished he could reach out and shake Janus loose. Or give him a hug. But that made Janus uncomfortable.

Finally, Janus sat down next to Patton. He tucked one arm around his legs and watched Patton apprehensively.

"So." Patton grabbed the last of the bandages and cloths. "Where does it hurt?"

"Stomach," Janus finally said. Gritted and forced, like he was bracing himself. "And leg."

"Which leg?" Patton asked.

Janus rolled up his left pant leg. Patton winced. Blood was crusted around a long jagged slash down the side.

"That's ugly," Virgil said. "You were gonna ignore _that?_ "

Janus hissed at Virgil. "No one needs your opinion."

"Okay, you two, calm down." Patton poured the last of the water on Janus' leg. "Tell me if this hurts. Actually _tell_ me. Okay? I'll ease up if you say so."

Janus nodded. But Patton decided to take it easy anyway. He had a feeling Janus wouldn't be fully honest about it.

He started cleaning up the blood, placing one hand on Janus' foot to keep him steady. This was so awkward. Janus kept staring at him, tense and ready to jump away at a moment's notice. Janus didn't _trust_ Patton, even though Patton trusted him, and that—that _hurt_ , weirdly enough. It made Patton feel a little sad. He knew it probably wasn't his fault, but he wanted Janus to be comfortable, and he'd failed.

"Thank you," Virgil said.

Patton and Janus both looked at him. He was chewing on his knuckles and not meeting their eyes.

"You're welcome?" Patton ventured.

"It was. Um. I mean, Pat, you're great, thanks for helping us, but—" Virgil gestured to Janus. "It was for him. Actually. Thanks—thanks, Janus."

Janus stared at Virgil uncomprehendingly. "What?"

"You saved us." Virgil shifted, sitting on his hands instead, still looking uncomfortable but determined. "You didn't have to do that. You could have let us die."

"I did have to save you," Janus argued. "I need you as much as you need me."

"Why?" Virgil asked.

Janus opened his mouth and closed it again.

"Yeah, thought so." Virgil shrugged. "Look, maybe this is all part of your master plan. Maybe you'll betray us. Probably you'll betray us. Still, though…" He ran a hand through his hair. "Thanks. For saving us. You got hurt for us, and—you could have—" Virgil curled into himself. "I thought you were dead. For a second."

"I'm not," Janus teased, but Patton saw the fragility of his smile.

"I know that _now_ ," Virgil grumbled, smirking. "Anyway. Yeah. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Janus said delicately. "Thank you for not panicking when I picked you up."

"I was panicking anyway," Virgil said, "so it just got added to the panic pile. Don't do it again, and we're good."

"We shouldn't need to." Janus glanced at the path ahead. "We're back on level ground and hopefully we'll stay there."

"Hopefully," Patton agreed, wrapping the bandages tight. "Does this hurt?"

"No," Janus said.

"Good." Patton looked up and smiled. "Unless you're lying to me."

"You'd never know, would you?" Janus smirked. The smirk slid off his face soon enough, when he seemed to realize it wasn't a joke. Not really.

"It…it hurts a little." Janus tucked his bottom lip under his top one and looked away. "Near the knee."

"Oh! Okay, thanks for telling me!" Patton unwound the offending bandages and rewrapped them. "Is this better?"

"Yes."

"Great!" Patton tied a neat little bow on top. "How does everything else feel?"

"I…" Janus looked like he was debating whether or not to say something.

"Hey." Patton shot him a smile and placed a hand on his arm. "I just want to help."

"Right." Janus nodded to himself. "I…the real damage is in my dragon form. It doesn't show up right now, but as soon as I shift back, I'll…I'll probably collapse again."

"So don't switch back," Virgil said. "Easy-peasy."

"It's not that simple." Janus paused again. "I can still feel the pain. It's lesser, but it's _there_ , and it won't leave until I address the problem."

"First of all, I hear you. Second, don't want to be near you as a dragon, no offense." Virgil looked around. "Third, there really isn't space to transform."

"Could you, like, half-transform?" Patton asked. "Maybe stop in the middle or something? So we could look at your wings or something without the rest of you?"

"That would be incredibly fun, but no." Janus shook his head. "It's either-or. If it's possible to stop the transformation halfway through, I haven't figured it out."

"Figures." Virgil climbed to his feet. "I'll go down the path and let you guys do the dragon thing far away from me."

"There still isn't space." Janus waved a hand. "You know what? Never mind. I'll be fine."

Patton glowered at Janus.

"I'll…" Janus paused. "I'll wait until we find a better space to transform?" he ventured.

Patton nodded. "And?"

"…and I'll tell you if it hurts?"

"And?"

Janus threw up his hands. "Well, now I've run out of things to say. Thank you?"

"I—oh." Patton didn't know why that made him feel so warm and bouncy. "Um, not what I meant, but…you're welcome? It was no problem!"

Janus coughed lightly, his own face slightly red. "What did you mean, then?"

"I meant that we'll take things slow." Patton demonstrated this by taking almost ten seconds to stand up. "Yeah, we need to get to Logan and Remus, but if we hurt ourselves getting there, we're doing nobody any good."

Virgil smiled. "Glad you're with me. Don't want you collapsing, Pat."

"Fine." Janus began to walk again, and Patton noticed that his step was far steadier than it had been. "Follow me, then."

Patton summoned his courage and trotted up to Janus. "Nope!"

"I beg your pardon."

"Sure, have my pardon!" Patton lengthened his stride to keep up with Janus. Virgil walked up to Janus' other side. It was a little cramped, but it worked.

"What—" Janus sighed. "You're just going to stay here, aren't you."

"Yep!" Patton clapped his hands. "We're a team. And teams stick together! Plus this way, we can catch each other if we fall."

Janus rolled his eyes. "Nobody's going to fall—"

And immediately he tripped over a rock, winced, and slipped. Patton wrapped an arm around his waist. Janus slumped into his side. Patton pulled Janus closer and helped Janus regain his balance. His traitorous brain told him that they were very close together and that Patton's arm fit snugly around Janus' waist and Janus' eyes were narrowed in concentration as he straightened up. His traitorous skin decided to blush basically everywhere. And his traitorous face softened until Patton realized he was smiling dopily at his worst enemy.

Stupid brain, stupid skin, stupid face.

"Um—" Patton coughed and tried to wipe the smile from his face. "Watch your step, Jan."

"Right," Janus said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant as he scooted out of Patton's arms. "You too."

And sure enough, the next time Patton fell, Janus caught him. And the next time Janus fell, Patton caught him. And the next time Virgil fell, Janus made a huge production of complaining about it, but Patton noticed that he immediately grabbed Virgil's arm and hauled him upright.

They were slow. Each step was painful. Virgil swore under his breath every time he stepped wrong. Blood dried on Patton's hands and clothes, leaving swaths of dark red-brown on his favorite overalls. It smelled even ickier when it was dried, less wet and salty, more stiff and powdery and rotten. The Woods watched them. The food in Patton's knapsack weighed him down.

But they were moving forward. They had made it past the cliff. They were on solid ground, far away from slashing claws and golden beaks, far from messages in spiderwebs and spiders themselves and burning towns. They'd made it so far already. And if they'd made it this far, they could make it the rest of the way there.

It was weird, probably, to be so hopeful. But right now—just for right now—everything seemed to be looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha gay


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: poison mention, food and eating, death mention, more fantasy racism, implied trauma/PTSD

"So," Janus said. "Food or no food?"

Patton looked at the array of food they'd spread on the knapsacks. The evening light made them glow against the ground. He ran his fingers over fresh bread that was puffy and light as clouds, apples redder than the blood drying on his hands, a full pumpkin pie with perfectly crinkled edges.

"How did this even fit?" Virgil asked, poking at a rack of lamb.

"No idea," Janus said. "I, for one, don't trust any food that came from a Faerie."

"Definitely not," Patton agreed, his mouth watering.

"Yeah," Virgil said, his stomach rumbling.

Janus looked between them and sighed. "You're going to eat it anyway."

"Look, you're a dragon! You don't get how hungry we are!" Virgil gestured violently at the spread of food. "I have not eaten a full meal in days!"

"You could die," Janus protested weakly.

"We'll die of starvation if we _don't_ eat." Virgil huffed. "Whatever. Pat, are we doing this?"

Patton tried to resist, but the tantalizing aroma made his head spin. "This isn't a good idea," he said, but he was convincing no one, least of all himself.

"It's not," Virgil agreed. "Janus, dragons heal fastest, you eat first."

"What?" Janus complained. "I don't even need to eat like you two!"

"Too bad." Virgil tossed Janus a chicken leg. Janus caught it clumsily. "You're injured, dipwad. You need the food."

Janus stared at the chicken leg with suspicion. Patton shifted his hands around and swallowed, watching the food with longing.

"Hurry up," Virgil begged. "I wanna eat."

"Eat, then."

"No." Virgil dropped his chin into his hands and stared intently at Janus. "You first."

"And here I thought we were starting to get along," Janus teased. He raised the chicken leg to his face and sniffed it. "It doesn't smell of anything, but it could still be laced with poison."

"Only one way to find out," Virgil said, looking oddly cheerful about the whole situation.

"Kiddo," Patton chided, "Jan doesn't have to eat the possibly-poisoned food if he doesn't want to—"

"I'm hungry too," Janus admitted. "Fine."

With both Patton and Virgil watching, Janus peeled a bit of meat off the bone with his teeth, chewed it, and swallowed. Patton's heart pounded.

"It's delicious, for one thing," Janus said. "I'm also not dead yet." He took a larger bite. "Definitely delicious, and definitely not dead. It could be slow-acting, though—"

Virgil had already grabbed a slice of buttered bread and shoved it into his mouth. He groaned loudly, closing his eyes. "Yeah," he mumbled through his mouthful, "that's really good. So worth possible death."

Patton shrugged and took a nearby plum. He squeezed it, making little indents. It was ripe. A little bit of the purple skin split, leaking juice all over his hand. Patton tried to brush it off but it only dried and stuck between his fingers. He sighed and raised the plum to his lips. It smelled really good. He remembered picking plums back in town, some of them begged from the orchards and some bought from the markets and some stolen—Patton never approved of those last ones, even though Remus insisted they were "totally gonna give them back later, you know, toss the pits over the wall." But his resolve always crumbled when they were all sitting in the shade, tearing the skin off the plums with their teeth, hands stained purple and sporting big juicy grins.

This plum was even bigger than those. And when Patton bit into it, the juice was somehow even sweeter. He swallowed and cold wet sugar trickled down his throat.

It still wasn't the same.

Patton chewed on the skin and waited to see if he'd collapse. Virgil and Janus hadn't, but it was still a worry in the back of his mind. Nothing happened. His head didn't swim, his hands didn't go limp. He took another bite, juice dripping down his front. It just tasted like plum, nothing more, nothing less.

"Everything good?" Virgil asked, inhaling some eggs. "Nobody's dead yet?"

"Oh no," Janus said in a monotone voice. "I've perished standing up. I've been poisoned. Avenge me."

"I'm okay so far," Patton said, finishing the plum. "Remember to only eat as much as you need. This'll have to last us for several days."

"Yeah, unless we get another random care package." Virgil shuddered a bit. "Still think that's really creepy."

"Definitely," Janus agreed. "There's some master plan here, but since it involves food, I'm going to willfully ignore it."

"You're speaking my language." Virgil polished off the eggs. "Wish there was some water—"

Patton moved aside a small pile of bonbons and pulled out three canteens. They were carved in wood and had little silver ribbons around the stoppers. Patton handed Janus and Virgil a canteen each.

"Come on," Virgil said. "Come _on_."

"It's a reasonable guess," Janus said, but he didn't look any less disconcerted. "They have little spiders carved on them."

"They what?" Patton looked down and shrieked, tossing the canteen away from him. It rolled in the dirt. Black spiders with silver threads crisscrossing each other, twisting in patterns along the wood. They were so intricately carved that Patton assumed a machine had done it, but that was impossible. They were far away from the town and even farther from the city.

"Pat." Virgil purposefully didn't ask a question, instead grabbing Patton's canteen and raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Patton mumbled. "I—they surprised me."

"You're afraid of spiders," Janus said, tilting his head. "Because…"

"Always have been!" Patton smiled. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Um, but…you know, a lot more so. After all that."

"Thought so." Janus looked around. "V, do you still have your old canteen?"

"Used to be Patton's?" Virgil nodded and pulled it out. "Yeah, why?"

"Can you—" Janus gestured to the canteens in each hand. "Pour the water out of the sp—the Faerie's canteen into the other one?"

"Good idea." Virgil popped open both of them and transferred the water. It was a clear, steady stream. Occasionally a few drops landed in the dirt and gleamed there for a few seconds before sinking into the path and disappearing.

"The water could be poisoned," Janus said, but it sounded like he was just raising the concern for the sake of being cautious.

"Then why give us the food?" Virgil closed the old canteen and handed it to Patton. "There you go, Pat."

"I—" Patton smiled. "Thanks, guys."

"No problem." Virgil tossed the spider canteen into the Woods, where it rolled between two trees and disappeared. "Water's good. Let's have some."

Patton took a few sips. It was clear and felt amazing on his parched throat. He had to stop himself from downing the whole thing. He closed the canteen and slid it into his knapsack.

"Have more," Virgil said. "Unless it's poisoned, it can't hurt."

"We should save up our resources!" Patton said. "This food isn't going to last forever, kiddo. I'm trying to spread it thinner and let it last."

"True," Janus said. "Unless there's a time limit for how long it will stay. If it's magic, the spell could fade."

Virgil immediately grabbed several piles of food and pulled them to his chest protectively. "She better not take my food."

Patton laughed. "You can't keep it from her."

"I can and I will." Virgil hissed at the Woods next to them. "Back off, lady."

Janus rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is, don't worry too much about how much you're eating."

"We still shouldn't be eating so much, right? Not if we've had so little before. We could get hurt." Patton took his little knife and sliced some bread. "So take it slow, guys."

"Good point," Janus said. Patton flushed a bit and smiled into his bread.

"Slow? Don't know her." Despite that, Virgil notably slowed down. "This is like, so good."

"You said that before," Janus teased.

"I know, it's just—" Virgil looked down at the food in horror. "Oh, no. Is it like cursed food? Are we gonna get addicted to it or something?"

"What—" Janus spluttered. "You're the one who was eating it with no regard for your safety!"

"I didn't think of this possibility!" Virgil poked at the food warily. Then he shrugged and shoveled in another mouthful. "In for a penny, in for a pound," he declared around the food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Patton chided, putting a few raspberries on his fingers and waggling them. They looked like little hats. He ate them off one by one.

Janus sighed and started eating again. There was silence, except for chewing and the occasional piping call of a bird nearby.

"What now?" Virgil asked when they'd reached a stopping point, stomachs almost uncomfortably full. Patton started cleaning up the food. All the leftovers fit easily into his knapsack, even though it was small, and there was no mess on the outside.

"Keep walking," Janus suggested.

"I dunno." Patton frowned. "We still haven't found a place to check on your dragon form, and we just ate, and Virgil and I are still injured. I think we should camp here."

Janus looked around at the path. "Alright. Should we make a fire?"

"It's really warm out. Don't think we should bother." Virgil rolled his shoulders. The joints cracked. "Let's sleep, I guess."

Patton laughed. "I thought you're not supposed to sleep right after a big meal."

"You just suggested we go to sleep," Janus pointed out.

"We can rest before we go to sleep." Patton gasped and clapped his hands. "Campfire songs!"

"There's no campfire," Virgil said, already curling up on his sleeping bag.

"Songs anyway!" Patton pouted. "Please?"

"If we're pretending there's a campfire," Virgil said, smirking, "I'd rather do ghost stories."

"Oh, really?" Janus' eyes gleamed. "That sounds entertaining."

"Kiddo," Patton squeaked. "You hate ghost stories!" _So do I,_ he didn't add, but he was pretty sure it was clear from the way Janus snorted.

"Yeah, it's a love-hate relationship." Virgil waved a hand. "Like you two!"

Patton made another squeaky noise and studiously avoided looking in Janus' direction.

"Anyway," Janus said loudly, "ghost stories. They sound good."

"I'm no good with them," Patton complained. "And they make me all shivery. It'll just be worse since it's all dark and we're in the Iron Woods."

"Point taken," Virgil said. "Heck, half the stories I know are _about_ the Iron Woods."

"Me too," Janus said.

"Really?" Patton asked. "I didn't know dragons talked about the Iron Woods!"

"Of course we do. We made them, after all." Janus pulled out his sleeping bag and sat down. Patton followed, placing a lantern in the middle of them. It was no campfire, but it set the mood alright, casting flickering shadows across Virgil's face, reflecting deep within Janus' eyes. Above them, the sky faded to darkness, a few stars peeking out between the leaves.

"What stories do you have?" Patton asked without thinking.

Virgil laughed. Janus smiled wider. And Patton knew he was trapped.

"So," Janus said slowly, "you want to hear our ghost stories?"

"I—" Patton flushed. No way out of this one. And he had to admit, he was really curious. "Sure. Yeah. This—this is fine."

"If you're too scared, we can stop," Virgil reassured him.

"Same goes for you," Patton said.

"Great." Janus spread his hands. "This isn't the only Iron Woods, as you probably know. It's patterned after dozens of others, all across the world. To the sea and back again. Each one is slightly different, but they all have one thing in common—dragons made them, and they're filled with iron down to the roots."

Patton found himself leaning forward. Janus' voice had dipped into a different register, even smoother and more honeyed than usual. His hands folded and danced and twisted as he talked, and Patton could watch just them forever, pale and golden in the light of the lantern. But he was drawn to Janus' face, drawn with thick shadows and heavy blocks of glow, eyes glittering.

"A long time ago, of course, there were no Woods at all. Magic and mundane mingled together. Sometimes the clashes were unwelcome, such as the Fae trapping wayward humans in their circles, or dragons killing dwarfs over gold. But on the whole, mortals and magical creatures lived side-by-side. They traded resources, built cities, explored terrains. They made friends, formed alliances, and fell in love."

Virgil was watching Janus intently too. The shadows darkened around them. More stars peeked through the sky. Janus' hands danced around each other and his voice filled every crevice in Patton's mind.

"Then one year, there was a horrible drought. The sun shone for months on end, and the people balanced all their buckets and cups and saucers on the roof, praying for a bit of rain. The fields dried up and the trees shriveled in their soil. The brooks and streams—" Janus ran his hands along each other and let them fall away to his lap. "The water was almost gone. People were dying of thirst. The Fae lost the trees that were their homes and habitats. The dragons, the werewolves, the dwarves, the spirits—all manner of creatures found their lives disrupted. And there was still no sign of rain."

Patton didn't remember this story. He'd heard snatches of what happened, but he'd never heard about the drought. Actually, he didn't remember anyone talking about this stuff too much at all. Maybe…maybe nobody remembered. Did dragons live longer than humans? Maybe some of the dragons were there when all this happened. Surely the Fae had been—they were immortal.

Patton thought of the Faerie they'd seen. Maybe she'd been alive for that, too. Maybe she'd had human friends, Fae friends, a little grove of her own. That made him a little sad.

"Fights broke out," Janus said, leaning forward and letting the fire play across his face. "Wars. The sun boiled under people's skin and burned their blood. Anger and resentment and fear came bubbling to the surface. There was only so much space, only so many resources, only so much water. There wasn't enough food. Everyone was desperate."

Patton swallowed. Something about Janus' voice made him almost picture it, a boiling landscape, hot and dry and red and filled with angry people and dragons and Fae.

"There was a man, I don't remember his name and I don't think anyone else does, but he had a daughter. He was prominent in his community. A merchant, I think. Everyone knew him and his husband and his daughter." Janus tented his fingers. "A Faerie stole her in the night. A note was left by the fire, saying if the man could get everyone in the city to give the Fae all their food, the baby would be spared."

"I don't like where this is going," Virgil said, his voice sounding at odds with the crickets and birds and quiet melody of Janus' words.

"Don't interrupt," Janus said, smirking. "Anyway, the man was devastated. Him and his husband tried to track down the Faerie but there was no sign of them. There were theories that the Faerie was a member of the Faerie Court, or even the Faerie Queen herself. No one was sure what to do. Eventually, they agreed to get together and give the Fae what they asked for." Janus paused, clearly savoring each word. "They arrived in a grove of trees by night. They placed the food in a pile on the parched earth. The Fae took the food. They didn't give back the baby."

"What happened to her?" Patton asked. "Did they keep her?"

Janus shook his head, flames casting riotous shadows across his face. "Later, they found her body in the leaf litter. She'd been dead for weeks."

Patton gasped, covering his mouth. Virgil swore.

"Everyone was outraged," Janus said. "People had been looking for proof that the Fae and other magical creatures weren't to be trusted. This was the last straw. Some of the most important humans gathered together with a few of the Fae who disagreed with what their fellows had done. Together, they decided to create the Woods. Little pockets of forested land, imbued with iron to keep the creatures within it from escaping, concentrated sections of magic. A group of powerful Fae, the few that sympathized with humanity, were given the iron. They built the Woods from the ground up, each one in their own piece of the world, weaving iron into the sap of the trees and the veins of the leaves." Janus waved a hand at the trees around them. "Most of them died accomplishing it. It was the greatest display of magic of all time."

"Wow," Patton whispered, staring at the leaves above them. "Who made this one?"

"A Faerie with a strong connection to humanity. Perhaps with family." Janus watched Patton carefully. "A child."

"What—" Patton stared at him. His stomach dropped. "You mean—my ancestor—made _this?_ "

"We can't know for sure," Janus said. His face was unreadable in the dark. "But it's likely."

Patton ran his hand over the path. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. That was so much power! They might have died, or if they didn't, been separated from humanity forever. To protect humans. Their family. By extension, _Patton_.

He wished he knew more about his ancestors. He'd never wished that before. His parents were dead, and Patton didn't have any memory of them. His moms were his family and he'd never needed anything more.

This, though…he had family here. He had a heritage. He had a Woods that his ancestor might have created, thrumming around him, stretching to the stars.

"Wow," Patton whispered again. It couldn't convey all the thoughts in his head.

"So magical creatures were shut away," Janus continued after a few seconds. "They were confined to their Woods. Some fought, others recognized the use of it, still others were afraid of what the humans could do if they chose. Some creatures adapted well to the environment. Some didn't. Dragons—dragons found a way. They took their hoards and settled in the Woods, little packs five or ten strong, with a good collection of eggs to keep their family going. Hunting wasn't good in the Woods—we're not meant to live near trees at all, we prefer mountains and plains—so they flew outside the Woods and stole sheep, cattle, anything they could find. People were upset. They said the dragons were dangerous. They weren't wrong." A flickering smile crossed Janus' face. "Some are. To each other more than humans, but to humans, as well."

"You're not dangerous," Patton protested.

Janus looked at him, a smile still on his face, glowing in the light of the candles. Looking for all the world like he'd grown up on this path, comfortable around these trees, breathing in time with the shadows, tossed down from the stars.

"Thanks," he said, toying with the words, "for the sentiment, Patton."

Patton found his mouth going dry for no reason at all. Maybe it was the way Janus savored his name.

"Still, I thought you were smarter than that." Janus leaned forward, smirking, and Patton's breath caught in his throat. "Everyone's dangerous. Especially dragons. We only have our own interests at heart. It's survival, pure and simple. You only survive if you stay on top."

Patton swallowed. "S-so you have some sort of…agenda?"

Janus tilted his head, smiling wider. Patton caught the gleam of fangs. "Doesn't everyone?"

"W-well, not everyone is so secretive. About theirs."

"I've kept no secrets," Janus countered, huffing a little laugh and watching Patton like he was the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm an open book. It's not my problem that you're not a good reader."

"I'm a good reader!" Patton crossed his arms. "Maybe your book just isn't in my language."

Janus lay down and placed his elbow on the ground, cupping his chin with his hand. His legs kicked up behind him. Patton tried to scoot away or scoot closer, he wasn't sure which, but Janus' eyes kept him rooted to the spot.

"Well, then." Janus brushed one lock of hair behind his ear. "Perhaps you'll be interested in a translation."

"I—" Patton hoped the night was hiding his blush. "Um. I'm not sure if—if I can trust the translator."

"Is that so," Janus said. "You'll smart. You'll figure it out. Unless you'll want a secondary opinion—"

"Ahem," Virgil said, lying on his blanket and glaring at both of them. "If you're done with the excessive metaphors, I think there was a story happening?"

"Right," Janus said, fumbling his way to a sitting position again. Patton took the opportunity to pretend to cough and cover his face, furiously wiping at his face and trying to scrub away his blush.

"Where was I?" Janus asked, sitting back.

"Dragons stealing stuff?" Patton prompted.

"Right. Right." Janus raised his hands again, and the tale continued, echoing among the trees. "You see, the humans left us with nothing. We were given a small spit of land and no food, told to never return. And we had it easy. We weren't even trapped in the Woods like many of the other creatures. Dragons go where they please. We always have. We certainly weren't going to be told what to do by a bunch of humans, especially when we needed food. So we…clashed with humans on multiple occasions. We gained a reputation as ruthless." There was that smirk again. "A not entirely undeserved reputation."

"Definitely," Virgil muttered, and Patton gave him a Look.

"It was a few hundred years afterwards when we realized the magic of the Woods was loosening. All across the world, the little pockets of safety were losing their power. The spell was fading, the iron was rusting away, and the magic was bursting at the seams. To maintain our little bubble, we needed more iron." For the first time, Janus looked almost sad. "It was for our own gain, of course. But it would have mutually benefited humans. They…they didn't understand. They assumed we were trying to destroy them. Since we hadn't been trustworthy before, they had no reason to trust us now. We received no iron."

"So you took it," Patton finished.

Janus nodded. "So the raids started. To keep the spells going, we need to add iron every few years. By this point, there's no way to turn back. We need to protect ourselves from the magic in this forest just as much as you do. And there's no way anyone would trust us enough to give iron willingly."

Patton fidgeted on his blanket. "I…dragons are ruthless, you said. You…are you proud? To be a part of that?"

Janus looked confused. "I don't exactly have a choice, do I?"

"Yeah, you do!" Patton waved his hand at himself. "I'm a Fae, at least partly, and I don't like that! So I'm not proud to be a part of it!"

"But your ancestors also saved your life indirectly and helped save the world," Janus pointed out.

Patton frowned. "But they separated everything!"

"Was that the right thing to do?"

"No, I—" Patton shook his head. "Maybe? I don't know!"

And then Janus laughed. And the moment was broken. "Don't blame you. It's complicated. And really, it's in the past, so trying to fit everything into "good and bad" and "right and wrong" is a waste of time. We can't spend our time overanalyzing the past. It's the present that matters."

"I—" Patton paused. "Huh."

"That was a stupid story," Virgil said. "You said we were doing ghost stories. That wasn't scary! It was just kinda sad."

"I liked it," Patton defended.

"It didn't even have a lesson," Virgil continued, but the lilt in his voice showed he was teasing. "Stories are supposed to have morals. Like 'don't split up in the dark' or 'don't trust random strangers.'"

"A moral," Janus repeated, smirking. "How about 'don't mess with dragons?'"

"Succinct." Virgil hummed. "I like it."

"I think the moral is—" Patton curled into himself a bit when both faces swung in his direction. "It's like Janus said. People can be…not nice due to circumstances they can't control. And there's always two sides to everything. I—I never heard that whole story before. Not the dragons' side of things."

"I could be lying," Janus pointed out. His smirk grew wider. He looked almost at ease, lounging on the path, the lantern sparking embers in his eyes. "You don't know."

"You could be," Patton agreed, a smile playing around his own lips. "That's true! Are you lying, Jan?"

"No," Janus said, smiling even wider.

"Well, see, you can be trusted now!" Patton laughed. "Unless you're lying about that! But you're not, right?"

"No," Janus agreed, stifling his laughter.

"See!" Patton pointed at Janus dramatically. "He's a good egg, kiddo! He's a good one!" Patton clapped his hands to his cheeks and gasped. " _Unless_ —"

And Janus started laughing, covering his mouth and curling forward and closing his eyes. It was quiet and soft and so different from his usual smug snickers. It made laughter bubble up in Patton's chest. It made Patton feel unexpectedly gooey inside, like a fresh cookie straight from the oven. It made him feel really gay— _good_. It made him feel good.

"Dorks," Virgil muttered, but he was smiling, too. "Still wasn't a real ghost story, though. Robbed."

"Oh, would you rather I tell you the story of the siren who lured sailors to their doom on the rocks?" Janus asked.

"Heck yeah," Virgil agreed. "That sounds _awesome_."

"That sounds not fun," Patton said. "I don't like when people die."

Virgil grinned widely. "Fine. I'll tell the story where no one dies."

Patton blanched. "Oh no. Not that story."

"What?" Janus looked between them, laughter still dying on his face. "What story?"

"My favorite story." Virgil's grin was crooked and mischievous. "The story about the girl with the broken eyes."

"Oh, no." Patton shook his head pleadingly, but he and Virgil both knew he wasn't really scared. "Come on."

"I have to admit this sounds interesting." Janus raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

"Oh, boy." Patton prepared himself for a scare. "Alrighty."

Virgil grabbed the lantern and stuck it under his face so the shadows on his face became even more craggy. He looked like a skeleton. The effect was broken by Janus' snicker and Virgil's petulant "Hey!"

"You look ridiculous," Janus said, snickering.

"No one asked, snake!" Virgil huffed. "Stop interrupting me!"

"You hadn't even started the story!"

"Stop!" Virgil turned back to the lantern and adjusted it so his eyes disappeared entirely in big sockets of shadow. "Now. Once upon a time, there was a young girl who lived in a house on the edge of the river…"

Patton knew this story by heart. It still scared him, sure, but he wouldn't have nightmares like he did the first time he heard it. He gasped in all the right places, said "Oh no!" when things went badly, and cheered when the characters made it out alright. This was the story where nobody died only because they turned into statues and waited in the bottom of the river for eternity, but still, Patton appreciated the effort.

Janus took over after Virgil, weaving a different story about the moon coming to earth and getting revenge on the sun. It was thrillingly epic and Janus was clearly in his element as a storyteller, dipping into a whisper every time things were dramatic, doing little impressions of each character, always finding the exact word that sent shivers down Patton's spine and made Virgil whistle in admiration. When Janus was done, it was Virgil's turn. Virgil was less adept, but he was blunt, and he knew exactly how to get Patton to squeak and pale. Janus gained a habit of saying "Boo!" whenever the story ended, and every time, Patton jumped. He didn't mind, though, because Janus laughed when Patton jumped, and Janus' laugh settled in Patton's chest, sweet as warm chocolate.

When it was Patton's turn, he didn't try for a ghost story. Instead, he told little stories of growing up in town. Janus had shared so much of his history, it was only fair that Patton give him a bit of his own. He talked about how he met Virgil, growing up with Roman, the time he asked out Andy in third grade. And he found his way to Logan and Remus. The way Logan put figuratively before every metaphor. The way Remus laughed at every bad pun Patton made. The way Logan liked the "scientific method" so much that he once climbed a tree for the sake of it, and broke an arm in the process. The way Remus treated laws as suggestions and knew how to steal from every garden in town. The way Logan loved to stargaze. The way Remus loved to play pranks, especially on his brother. The way Logan always knew the right thing to say. The way Remus' mere presence cheered Patton up. Logan's levelheaded intelligence. Remus' boundless energy. How much he cared about them, loved them, and wanted them back.

He probably sounded like a rambling idiot. But neither Virgil or Janus interrupted him at all.

"We'll get them back," Virgil finally said after Patton had run out of things to say. "Don't worry."

"Easy for you to say," Patton teased, hoping it would cover the sudden wetness of his eyes.

"So," Janus said, drawing their attention away, "do you want to hear about the monkey's paw?"

And they wiled away half the night together, swapping stories and shivering at the scariest ones, trying to make each other shriek and laugh and cry. They really should be sleeping. Patton's eyes itched. But there would be nightmares when he slept, and he wanted to hold onto this moment, with Virgil and Janus arguing about the process of ghost-summoning, the lantern glowing between them, the trees rustling around them in some kind of lullaby. It felt—it felt like home.

Janus felt right at home with them. Like he filled a spot he'd always been meant for.

Oh, Patton thought as he watched Janus swat at Virgil and laugh so loudly his fangs showed clearly. Oh. This—this is what he'd seen in Janus from day one. The possibility of _this_. Yes, Janus was a dragon and hurt his friends and made a million mistakes. But Patton had been sure he was capable of more. _This_ was the more. This was what he could be. Laughing and at ease in the firelight, weaving stories out of nothing, smiling when he caught Patton's eye.

Soon they'd fall asleep and wake up and have to start over again. This surreal little moment would be gone with the wind. But for now, Patton soaked it in, trying to remember the scent of dew in the air, the hard-packed dirt under his hands, the exact sound of Janus' laugh, the glowing orange of the dying fire.

For the first time, Patton found himself dreading the morning.

They slept in the next morning. Or Virgil and Janus did—Patton watched the sun rise in the sky and counted to himself, alone. He probably could have—probably _should_ have—woken them up, but they'd stayed up so late, and they needed the rest if they were going to heal. He breathed in the air, smelling like fresh pines and old iron, and watched a few birds wheel in the sky. They were small but still reminded him uncomfortably of the gryphons.

The scratches on his skin had turned from red slashes to dark reddish-brown lines. He ran his hand over them and felt the scabs forming. His ankle was still stiff from the snake, and there were a few faded green bruises from when he pinched himself too hard, and if he breathed far too hard, his chest hurt. But everything was healing—healing way faster than he'd expected. Maybe it was the food they'd eaten. That was a scary idea. If the food was magic enough to help heal Patton, was it magic enough to put a tracker on them? Hypnotize them? Make them immune to the Woods' protection magic?

Patton sighed and shook his head. Nothing they could do about it now. And he still had a feeling that the food had been safe. The Faerie wanted them alive and healthy.

For what, he didn't want to think about.

They'd be _fine_. They'd be fine! As long as they didn't step off the path, they'd be fine.

Patton looked at the Woods around them. The trees rustled, like they were laughing.

"Hey," Patton muttered. "Stop it."

The trees laughed harder.

"We will!" Patton declared, aware that he was talking to trees but also aware that there were likely many ears listening. "We'll make it through and save Logan and Remus and maybe even figure out what to do about the dragon situation! And Janus and Virgil will be fine. You'll see!"

A few leaves fell to the ground in front of Patton. Patton stuck his tongue out at them. They didn't respond.

Of course they didn't. They were leaves.

Maybe the sleep deprivation was really getting to Patton.

Still, he couldn't fall asleep now. It was morning. So he brushed the leaves aside and hummed a few folk songs to himself as he waited for Janus and Virgil to wake up. They were both out cold, Virgil drooling on his hoodie, Janus curled up and clutching his arms to his chest like he was hugging himself. They both looked pretty worse for wear, Patton realized. It was harder to see with Virgil, since the cuts and bruises blended in with his darker skin, but there were circles under his eyes and his bangs were matted with dirt and dried blood. Janus, on the other hand, clearly bruised like a peach. His whole face bore scratches and bruises and little nicks. His hair was tangled and knotted. His hat was nowhere to be found—right. It had gotten torn apart. They'd left it on the path, bloodied and battered.

It took Patton months to make that hat. He'd worked on it every evening. He couldn't count the number of stitches he'd lost. Everyone said yellow wool was tacky and a waste of good dye, but he liked yellow! Yellow and blue were his favorite colors, and he'd already made a blue scarf.

Patton liked the hat. It looked good on Janus. It did really bring out his eyes. That wasn't why he was sad, though. He was sad because Janus looked strangely bare without it, unprotected. He was sad because he made something nice and Janus liked it—or just tolerated it to protect Patton's feelings, but Janus wouldn't do something like that, and that was one of the reasons Patton liked Janus—and Janus wore it. And now it got ruined.

Hmph.

Well, no use dwelling on the negatives like that! It was just stuff. He'd lost half the stuff in his life in the past week or so. Why did a stupid hat matter? It didn't.

Patton found his eyes welling up with tears. He swiped at them angrily until they disappeared.

He was really, really tired of wanting to cry.

"Janus?" Patton asked. "Virgil? Let's get up."

So with assorted groans and complains, they all got up, ate some food that hadn't disappeared overnight like Janus feared, and started walking. Patton kept very close to Janus. Well, as close as Janus let him, which was getting to be really close! He was still annoyed that they hadn't found a clearing wide enough for Janus to transform. Clearly the pain was still bothering Janus whenever he walked—Patton saw the little flinches and winces and hesitations.

But there was nothing they could do about it now. They needed a space large enough for a dragon, or Janus would end up halfway off the path and at the mercy of any magical creatures who decided to stop by.

They kept walking.

The Woods barely changed. Patton could have sworn this was the same path as back before the cliff, small and winding and lined with iron. But they had to be moving in the right direction. Right? Right. Even magic couldn't make them twist around to where they started without them noticing.

Then again, Patton didn't know much about magic. Definitely not as much as he thought he did. He'd just assumed the Woods had been there forever, or they were completely natural. He hadn't realized that a Faerie had created them. Maybe the same Faerie that had given him pointed ears and good luck and a curse to tell the truth.

A gift? A curse? Either one could work.

Patton looked at the trees all around him, dripping with iron, and imagined the kind of power needed to make this real.

He couldn't imagine even having a fraction of that. But he did. A very small fraction. And he'd never fully appreciated that before.

He'd never been proud of his Fae ancestry. Maybe because of all the strange looks he got, the little whispers, and even though he never fully understood them? On some level, he understood. Being a Fae meant he was different, untrustworthy, and had to try twice as hard to be liked. He couldn't afford to mess up or make mistakes like other kids. If he wasn't perfect, or as close to perfect as he could be, people would say that meant he was bad.

It _did_ mean he was bad. Didn't it?

Yes, being part Faerie meant he could win bets and guess lucky numbers. But even those feats usually got weird looks and suspicious murmurs. Only Remus and Roman and Logan and Virgil, his best friends, never treated him any different. They thought it was cool that Patton could toss a stone and hit an apple fifty feet away. They thought it was neat that he always told the truth. And when people told stories about the Fae, they never gave Patton little glances, because they understood that Patton was more worried about it being awkward than Fae being disparaged. Most Fae were jerks. He got that, loud and clear. Being immortal meant you had different concerns than a human. The best of them viewed humans as weaker or more vulnerable. For the worst, humans were pests needing to be stomped out, playthings for a rainy day.

Well, not all of them, clearly. Patton was living proof that some Fae thought about it differently.

Some Fae were willing to sacrifice themselves to save the world.

To make the Woods Patton was currently walking through.

To build the path that refused to widen enough for them to help Janus.

To protect people from their own kind.

Patton's brain was full of thoughts, most of them not confusing and convoluted and leading nowhere. They didn't really help him figure anything out. They just made him feel vaguely icky and sent his brain running in circles. So he decided thinking wasn't worth it.

Instead, he spent half the morning convincing Janus and Virgil to let him sing a song. Stealth was out of the window, and they _still_ hadn't sang any songs together, and he bet that Janus had a really good voice, and he wanted to drown out the noise in his head, though he didn't tell them that last one. He wheedled them for hours until finally Janus said "If you're less annoying while singing, fine, do it for all of us."

So they sang! Well, Patton sang. Virgil didn't do much more than nod along to the music and groan when Patton changed the lyrics to make them about dogs. Janus apparently didn't know any of the songs, which meant he was left walking in silence next to Patton, occasionally tripping on roots or wincing when he stepped wrong. And then Patton made the mistake of singing an older song that he hadn't realized was about dragon-hunting. He petered out halfway through the verse. Virgil gave Patton an incredulous look. Patton opened his mouth to apologize, decided not to comment at all, and stopped singing entirely. It was awkward for a long time after that.

They ate lunch, passing peaches and bread and cheese around, Janus hogging the meat and Patton balancing blueberries on his nose. He managed five or six before they fell off into the dirt. It was worth it, though, because Janus snickered a little bit.

It was a late lunch since they'd had a late breakfast. Well, Patton assumed so. He didn't really know what time it was. The sun was hanging somewhere behind them and the shadows were short and small. It'd been days since they'd left now. Patton wondered how his moms were doing. How Roman was doing. How the cows were doing, and the chickens. Okay, there were some more icky thoughts and bad feelings. Yay! Patton shook himself and wished he could start singing again.

Sometime during late afternoon, when the heat was starting to subside and an owl had taken to hooting by the edge of the path despite it not being night, they stumbled across a small clearing. It was lined with iron in an almost perfect circle, grassy and serene. A few remnants of camping materials were there. Blue pieces of tent, an old apple half-buried in the ground, a pole jammed straight into the dirt and broken off at the top. There was a circle of stones in the center, and Patton worried that it was a Faerie circle. But there were old ashes and embers in the center. It was a fire pit.

"People have been here before," Virgil said.

"Of course they have." Janus rolled his eyes. "It's not like we've been _following a path_ this whole time."

"Yeah, I know," Patton said, walking over to the fire pit and running his fingers over the ashes. They were cold and flaked away in his hands. "It's just...weird. We haven't seen any human stuff into long."

"I have to admit, it's surprising to see it so far in." Janus looked warily around. "I would assume most people would have perished before now."

"Hey, we survived," Virgil pointed out. "Through sheer dumb luck. So if we can, so can other people, right?"

"Nobody's ever come out," Patton said, standing up again. "So...no. Nobody's survived. They've made it this far, and then..."

Virgil shifted. Janus nodded.

"Wonder what's next," Virgil finally said, looking like he didn't particularly like to be wondering that.

"Who knows." Janus glanced at the path across from them. It looked the same as ever. "Shall we find out?"

"Wait." Patton held up his hands and tried to measure the width of the clearing. "Is this—this could be what we've been looking for! Can you fit?"

Janus scrunched his nose up a bit as he concentrated. It was adorable. "I think so."

"Yeah, 'I think so' isn't good enough." Virgil walked over to the fire pit and kicked at the ashes, turning them over. "If you mess up, you could wind up off the path, and that'd be good for no one."

Janus gasped. "Oh, you really do care!"

"Shove it." Virgil waved a hand. "Just...be careful, Pat."

"Me?" Patton asked. "Why should _I_ be careful—"

Virgil not-so-subtly jerked his chin in Janus' direction.

"Right," Patton said, deciding not to comment. "I will be. Virgil, do you—"

"I'll leave." Virgil walked across the clearing to the path farther down. "Scream if you need help."

"Right," Patton said again, feeling very awkward.

Virgil disappeared down the path, giving Janus one last suspicious look and Patton one last concerned glance.

And Patton was left alone with Janus, feeling very jittery for no reason in particular, fidgeting with the straps of his overalls and avoiding Janus' gaze.

"So," Janus finally said.

"Yeah," Patton agreed.

"Um." Janus waved a hand. "Get out of the way, I suppose?"

Patton scooted a few inches to the left.

Janus laughed a bit. "A little further."

Patton nodded and walked back down the path until there were twenty feet or so between them.

"I'm not that big," Janus called, his whole mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. Patton giggled a bit, too, and some of the tension left him.

Patton walked back to the edge of the path. Janus stood near the firepit.

"So," Janus said again, shuffling his feet.

"Yeah," Patton agreed. "Um, go ahead, then?"

"Right." Janus coughed into his hand. "Good."

A few seconds passed.

"Are you going to?" Patton prompted.

"Right! Right." Janus closed his eyes. "Don't—I—yeah."

"It's fine," Patton said, more to himself than Janus. His stomach was getting squirmy. Far down the path, Virgil was sitting cross-legged, staring at the ground.

"Don't..." Janus grasped at the air like he was searching for words. "I...please don't freak out."

"I've seen you in your dragon form before," Patton said, smiling.

"I know." Janus rubbed at his arm for a second. "Yeah. I'll—let's go."

"It's fine," Patton said again, making sure his voice was soft. "Whenever you're ready."

Janus nodded, closed his eyes, and flexed his fingers. Patton found himself closing his eyes as well.

When he opened them, a dragon was coiled in the clearing, wings outstretched and tail coiled around the edge. Janus fit, just about. Patton half-expected Janus to try and fly, or to bare his teeth, or to raise his head. Instead, he simply lay down in a half-circle, tucked his yellow wings over his scales, and tossed his head at Patton in a "go ahead" gesture.

Carefully—Patton hated how hesitant he was, this was _Janus_ , same yellow eyes—Patton approached. Janus didn't move, aside from huffing a bit. At first he looked magnificent. His scales gleamed in the light. The yellow ridges down his back, the patches of yellow scales in-between the dark ones, the delicate yellow of his bat-like wings—and of course he was so big, even laying down. But as Patton approached, he saw several large gashes in his side, the way one leg was twisted under another, a few tears in the wings, and of course the one limp wing that sat heavily on his side.

And the burns. Patton had tried to ignore the burns. They looked better than they had, less irritated and fresh, but still made Patton's face sting in sympathy and shame. Janus must have caught him looking, because he carefully turned his face so he was in profile. Cold yellow eyes with slitted pupils, ridges and curved yellow horns, and burns hidden away from Patton's sight.

Right. Yeah. Dragon! Dragon.

Patton shouldn't be so nervous. He _expected_ this. Heck, he'd been way closer than this before! It was only yesterday that Janus had carried him to safety. He took a deep breath and tried to calm the nerves in his stomach as he walked over to Janus and sat by his side. Slowly he placed one hand on Janus' scales. They were cool and rougher than he expected. Janus shuddered a little bit but didn't move away.

"Great," Patton said, partly to himself and partly to Janus who could still hear him even if he couldn't talk. "So, we're gonna take a look at some of these cuts, okay? They're kind of nasty. I can't do much, but I can clean them out with some water and make sure they don't get infected later."

Janus huffed again, a little curl of fire escaping. Patton took that as an encouragement.

"Alrighty!" Patton started rummaging through his knapsack. "Gosh, you're big! I always forget that, but sitting next to you really puts you in _scale_."

Janus stared at Patton and Patton could hear the palpable disappointment.

"What?" Patton asked innocently, pulling out the canteen and opening it. "Don't start _dragon_ me on my puns!"

That got a full-on eye roll. Patton giggled and started wiping at the first cut he saw. Janus' tail twitched a bit.

"Stay still," Patton instructed. "We wouldn't want you to get _soar_."

A huff.

"You're so rude! Are you going to _fire_ me?" Patton giggled. "Because I think I'm _flying high!_ "

And Janus made a little rumble deep in his throat. It could have been threatening. Instead, it sounded just like a cat purring. Patton felt it vibrate through his hand.

"Aww!" Patton exclaimed, pausing. "You're like a little cat!"

Janus rumbled louder, weakly swatting at Patton with his tail. It barely hurt. Patton slapped at it in return, grinning.

"Lay that back down," Patton said, still giggling. "You need to stay still, mister! Do I have to repeat myself? It's going to be the _claws_ of some further injuries if you're not careful."

Janus gave him one more petulant swipe before settling down again. Patton moved on from the first injury, cleaning up some of the others. He eyed a long scratch near Janus' horns and frowned. "Janus?"

Janus made a little snort that Patton translated to "If you make another pun, your life is forfeit."

"I need to reach some of the cuts on top." Patton stood up and ran his hand along Janus' scales. "Can I...would it hurt if I climbed up there?"

Janus shook his head a bit and sunk down even lower so Patton was on eye-level with his back.

"Okay. Tell me if it hurts, okay? Or—or hiss or something. I—yeah." Patton giggled to himself. "Well, _hiss_ is going to be fun. Definitely a _tail_ to tell when it's over!"

That got him a little hiss and a blast of fire. Patton laughed and clambered his way up Janus' back, digging his hands around the scales and carefully avoiding the wounded areas. He straddled the ridge, slipping in-between some of the larger scales, and reached for Janus' neck. Beyond his hands was Janus' head and the edge of the burns. Patton started cleaning out the scratch, humming to himself.

"Everything okay?" he heard Virgil yell.

"Yep!" Patton got the last of the dirt away and slid down Janus' side, walking over to the wounded foot in the back. "Jan, could you, um, roll over?"

Patton could almost hear Janus' response. "Yes, I'm a dog, bark bark." But after a few annoyed seconds, Janus shifted onto his side with a hiss. His belly was smooth and yellow with overlapping scales that linked into place like a snake. Patton glanced over the belly, noting that it had mostly avoided injuries, and focused on the leg nearby. The claws were long and could easily slice him open, but he found that he wasn't that nervous about it. Huh.

Patton sat next to Janus' leg and looked it over. It looked like it had gotten sprained and there were a few rocks lodged in it. This was going to be harder than a simple scrape, but he needed to try his best!

"Should I splint this?" Patton asked nobody in particular. "'Cause honestly, I'm not sure what to do here. It needs to heal on its own."

There was a little gust of air and the leg by Patton's side disappeared. He looked over to see Janus sitting by the fire pit, brushing his hair aside.

"I think it'll be fine," Janus said. "It's really my wings I need to worry about."

"Splint _those?"_

"I suppose?" Janus shrugged. "I have no idea how you would find the materials for a splint."

"Yeah, or splint a wing, really." Patton bit his lip. "What do you think we should do? _Virgil!_ "

There were several loud thumps and Virgil tore down the path into the clearing. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing!" Patton held up his hands and smiled. "Whoa, there, kiddo, where's the fire?"

_"Fire?"_

"No fire." Patton gestured to Janus. "We were just thinking about how to help his broken wing!"

"You were..." Virgil looked at Janus and back at Patton. Something passed over his face. "Pat, can we talk for a sec?"

"Sure," Patton said.

"I meant..." Virgil looked irritated for a reason Patton couldn't figure out. "Away. Not here."

Patton frowned. "I don't think Janus should move—"

"I want to talk _without Janus here_." Virgil rolled his eyes and grabbed Patton's arm. "Come on."

Patton shrugged and stood up, giving Janus a little wave. Janus didn't wave back. He was watching Virgil suspiciously.

Virgil practically dragged Patton down the path again. Patton glanced back at Janus a few times but Janus had turned away. Finally, Virgil stopped a few hundred feet down the path, well out of Janus' earshot.

"What's up?" Patton asked, beginning to get a little concerned.

"What's up?" Virgil hissed. "You're helping Janus' wing heal, that's what's up!"

"Huh?" Patton blinked. "Why do you have a problem?"

"Are you an—" Virgil sighed. "Patton. The _only reason_ he came on this trip with us is because he couldn't fly home on his own. Because his wing is broken."

"Yes?" Patton prompted. "So?"

"So, if his wing _heals_ , he doesn't _need_ us." Virgil pointed violently down the path at Janus. "There's no telling what he'd do! He might betray us or leave us or _attack_ us."

"He wouldn't do that," Patton said.

"I'm just saying, it's not smart to give our enemy back his advantages." Virgil's expression softened, apparently noticing Patton's upset expression. "Look, Pat. I don't want to think he'd hurt us, either. But...it's just not smart."

"He's hurt," Patton said, "and I want to help."

"And that's really great of you." Virgil smiled. "Wouldn't expect anything less. I just wish you'd be a little less trusting and a little more careful."

"We need him to be healed," Patton said, changing tactics. "Remember what we saw from that mountain? There's more heights ahead. It'll be good to have a dragon who's not in pain every time he flies."

"Yeah," Virgil admitted, "but—"

"And he probably won't even heal before we get there!" Patton added. "Splinting his wing doesn't mean it'll be fixed immediately."

"Dragons heal faster than humans," Virgil warned.

"So we just let his wing heal in a stiff position? That could hurt him for _years!"_ Patton folded his arms. "Virgil, he's _hurt_. In case you forgot, he risked his life for us. It's only fair to help him in return!"

"We've all saved each other like ten times." Virgil stepped forward. "This isn't about _fair_ , and don't try to pretend it is. This is about something else. And I want to know what."

"What—" Patton stepped back. "Nothing else! I just—I just think he's...maybe...not that bad?"

Virgil gave Patton a long look. "Explain."

"Look." Patton stuck his hands behind his back so he could fidget with his fingers. "Um. He's...I know. I know he's bad. He hurt Roman. But...he's also been nice to us! Not nice. Somewhat nice? But...good. He's been good. He's looked out for us—for _me_ —and I know he'll betray us, but I just—"

"It's all an act," Virgil said. "It has to be. He—there's no way he's sincere about all this!"

"Oh, really? He must be a really good actor." Patton found himself raising his voice. "He _helped_ us."

"For his own gain!" Virgil's voice was raising as well. "Pat, he's _manipulating_ us!"

"He's our _friend!"_

"He's _your_ friend!" Virgil shook his head. "Not even that! He's what you _think_ is your friend! Pat, I love you, but you're being _stupid_."

Patton's chest burned. "You weren't so distrustful last night, were you? You were having _fun_. What changed? You remembered that he has _scales_ half the time?"

"Yes!" Virgil threw up his hands. "Pat, that's _important!_ We can't forget that! I—I wanted to, I almost did, but he's a _dragon_."

"That changes nothing."

"It changes _everything!"_ Virgil looked torn between sadness and anger. "Pat, please _listen_ to me!"

"I'm listening, but I don't like what I hear." Patton balled his fists and turned on his heel. "Janus is right. You're just scared."

Virgil made a little noise of protest, or maybe hurt, or maybe fear.

"And I'm sorry you're scared," Patton added to thin air, the fight sinking out of him. "I get why you are. But...if it's hurting people—if it's _letting_ my friends be hurt—you're going to have to work on it."

"Patton," Virgil called after him as he walked away, but Patton didn't have anything left to say. Words were over. All that mattered was actions. And Patton had a wing to fix.

When Patton returned, Janus was watching him carefully. Patton smiled and waved, walking over to the remnants of the tent and grabbing the remaining pole. It was a little flexible but it seemed like it would work okay as a splint. He pulled it out of the ground with a little grunt, walked to the edge of the clearing, and said "Okay, Janus. You can transform back!"

Janus didn't. "I would totally hate to be nosy," he said slowly, "but your discussion seemed...rather heated."

"Don't worry about it," Patton said. "It's nothing to do with you."

Janus watched him carefully. "For some reason, I doubt that."

"He'll come around," Patton said, more to himself than Janus. "I know he will. He's—he's a good kid. A good friend. He just needs a little time."

Janus made a noise between a huff and a sigh. And he was curled up in the clearing again, wings tucked to his back, looking almost completely relaxed. Like he trusted Patton to help him out. That...that was really sweet. How could Virgil think this guy was being manipulative? Sure, maybe he was going to betray them, but he was also so sweet and caring and trusting and funny, once he let his walls down a bit. He wasn't perfect. He was still mean and abrasive and defensive at times, and of course he was literally on the opposite side of a centuries-long feud and had injured Patton's best friend. But...Patton liked him. Maybe that was a flaw in Patton. Too trusting. Maybe just like Virgil said, he was setting himself up for a fall.

But Patton found that he didn't care much.

Maybe Janus would betray them. Maybe not. But he couldn't control what Janus did. All he could do was be the nicest he could and make sure Janus knew there was an option other than taking the dragons' side. What Patton could do was be a good friend. And that was something he thought he was pretty good at.

That was a good game plan. Janus was being kind of rude? Well, Patton just had to be the _best friend ever_. Kill them with kindness. Except replace "kill" with "get to turn good."

"Stretch out your wing," Patton said, sliding up to Janus. "I'm gonna try and fix it."

It was a long afternoon. Patton didn't really know what he was doing, and any time it hurt too much Janus either twitched out of position or instinctively turned back into human form, which would reset all their progress. Plus Patton had never done such a big splint before. It took all his bandages to even get the pole in the right position, much less actually make it sturdy. He ended up leaning against Janus' scales, hot and sweaty, wishing he could just magic the wing back into position.

There was a small cough at the edge of the clearing.

Patton looked over. Virgil was sitting on the ground, knees to his chest, watching Janus with apprehension. Janus gave Virgil a little huff and an eye-roll but didn't move forward or turn away. Neither did Virgil.

"Um." Virgil swallowed. His voice was small. "Try...rope? It sounds bad, but if you keep it from touching the really sensitive skin on the wings, it'll probably be fine. His scales are tough."

"Oh." Patton smiled. "That's a great idea! I'll try that!"

"Cool. Yeah." Virgil sunk into himself a bit more. "Um, good luck."

"You know," Patton said, giving Virgil a significant look and unpacking his rope, "it'd be faster if I had a helper. Many hands make light work!"

Virgil snorted. "Don't push it, Pat."

"He won't mind!" Patton patted Janus' side. "He's just like a lil puppy dog! Except with scales and fire breath!"

Said fire breath was employed in a large, loud sigh.

"He doesn't like me calling him a puppy, apparently." Patton shrugged and smiled. "Well! My point still stands."

"I—I'll stay here." Virgil managed to smile a bit. "Not yet. Sorry."

"Got it." Patton looked fondly at Virgil. "Thanks, kiddo."

"Didn't do anything," Virgil protested. "Now come on. Fix his wing or whatever. I don't wanna sit here forever."

Patton shook his head, laughing to himself, and turned back to Janus. Janus unfolded the wing a bit so Patton could start trying the rope. It took seven or eight tries to even find something that worked. The sun was sinking low in the sky, Patton's fingers stung from working the rope so much, and Virgil was still seated at the edge of the clearing, chewing on his sleeves and flinching every time Janus moved too much. But Virgil was _there_. He was trying. And that meant the world.

Yeah, Patton would probably be here for a while. And his fix wouldn't be perfect. And Virgil was still too nervous to be near Janus. And Janus might use this against them later. And they were still stuck in the Iron Woods, which nobody had escaped from before.

But y'know what? If there was ever a time to look on the bright side, this would be it. They had made it this far. They'd grown so much. And they'd be okay. His friends would have his back.

His...friends.

Patton looked down at Janus, who had his head tucked between his talons, blowing on a bit of grass. A lick of fire sent the grass to cinders and Janus snorted in what sounded like disappointment.

Yeah.

His friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things sure are going well aren't they :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: minor body horror, manipulation, fire, spiders

That night was another late one for Patton. This time, Janus and Virgil didn't stay up with him. They were tired from the previous night, and Patton encouraged Janus to rest to help his wing heal, so they'd gone to sleep. Patton stayed awake, of course. It was a nice night to be up. The sky was clear and Patton even spotted a few shooting stars between the constellations. He tried to name them, but his glasses were off and they were all blurry. When he put his glasses back on, he ended up just counting the stars, working his way from one side of the sky to the other.

Patton had counted seven hundred and twelve stars when something rustled. He pulled himself upright and looked around. Janus had climbed to his feet, kicking at his sleeping bag and stretching. He glanced around, ran his hands through his hair, and started watching the side of the path. The trees hung close together here, moss soaking the floor, roots lampooning little sections of pure white flowers.

"Janus?" Patton asked after a few minutes. Janus hadn't moved. He'd just stood there, watching the Woods, completely still.

"Janus?" Patton asked again, something in his stomach going cold.

Janus didn't respond. He didn't even twitch. It was like he'd become a statue.

Then he jerked back to life. "No!" he exclaimed. "No! Not happening! Nice try!"

"What?" Patton asked, frowning and climbing to his feet.

"Wh—" Janus whirled. "Oh. It's just…hello, Pat."

"What's wrong?" Patton asked.

"Nothing," Janus said. He glanced behind him at the Woods. "I just—"

His voice trailed off. And he was still again, stiff as the trees around them, watching something Patton couldn't see.

"Janus?" Patton asked yet again. He stepped forward and reached for Janus' hand. Before he reached Janus, Janus began to walk away.

Walked _off_ the path.

_What?_

Patton blinked and rubbed his eyes. Yep. Janus had walked straight off the path, stepping over the little barrier of iron, slipping between two tree trunks.

"Janus!" Patton yelled.

Janus didn't turn around.

Patton raced to the edge of the path. Janus was picking his way between trees, stepping over the roots without looking at them. He wasn't watching his step, Patton noticed vaguely, which wasn't right. _All_ of this wasn't right! Why would Janus just leave the path? He'd _die!_ Why was he—

"Janus!" Patton almost screamed, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Janus didn't seem to hear him at all.

That's when Patton noticed the faint light ahead of Janus, shimmering and soft like a little bouncing orb, floating between the trees. It ducked under a vine and Janus followed, one hand holding a branch to keep himself steady, looking for all the world like he was leading the way down a path. Not following a strange light into the Woods.

Patton shook his head. He _knew_ what this was. It was on the tip of his tongue, he'd heard stories about this exact thing, why couldn't he remember—

"Virgil!" he decided to yell instead.

Virgil made a grumbly noise. "What?" he asked his pillow.

"Virgil!" Patton pleaded again. His voice cracked. "Get up!"

Virgil must have heard the urgency in Patton's tone. He fumbled his way upright and rubbed his eyes, staring at Patton. "What's up?" he asked.

"Janus," Patton said, pointing. "He left the path."

"What? No he didn't. Why would he—" Virgil walked over and squinted between the trees. "No way."

"It's a trap." Patton bit his lip. "It's gotta be."

"Yeah. That's a will o' the wisp. I've heard the stories." Virgil frowned. " _Janus! You idiot, you're the one who told us not to go off the path!"_

"He can't hear you," Patton said miserably.

Virgil stared at Janus' disappearing figure. "What do we do?"

Patton could have said 'leave.' He almost did. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not for the reasons he expected. Because…because Janus didn't deserve to die.

"I know that face," Virgil said. "Can't even see it, it's so dark, but I know it."

Patton walked over to his knapsack, grabbed his flint and a candle, and carefully lit the candle. It warmed his palms. It looked similar to the will o' the wisp, except somehow softer, more yellow.

"I'll be back soon," Patton said. "He's…he's injured. If I can get him to look away, we should be fine."

"Yeah, and what about all the other stuff in the Woods?" Virgil huffed. "I don't like this."

"You never do, kiddo." Patton held the candle in front of him, joining Virgil at the edge of the path. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, you will. 'Cause I'm coming with you." Virgil grabbed his crossbow off the ground. "Let's go."

"You're—" Patton swallowed. The overwhelming gratitude and worry made him speechless. Finally, he stammered out "Thank you? Why do you need the crossbow?"

"I'll bash monsters over the head with it," Virgil explained. "Maybe I'll find more bolts later."

Patton nodded. "You're sure about this?"

"Deadly sure."

"Don't say it like that," Patton said, watching the flickering light catch on the crystallized iron. It made it look like the trees themselves were molten iron, catching fire in the dead of night. "Janus will be fine, and we'll be fine. It's just in and out. Grab him and go. How hard can it be?"

"I'm not gonna answer that." Virgil lifted one foot and hovered over the edge of the path. "On three?"

"No time." Patton watched as Janus faded into the mist. "Now."

Virgil put his foot down. Patton followed.

And they made their way off the path.

It felt _wrong_. Viscerally, terribly wrong. All of Janus' warnings came to the surface. Watch your step. Stay on the path. He remembered the ghost stories they'd told a night ago. He remembered the warnings his moms had given him. He remembered the snake with silver scales and huge eyes, the spiders crawling over his skin and through his eyes, the gryphons with their golden claws and huge wings. This was the Woods. This was the wild, untarnished, craggy Woods. This was what parents told their kids about to make them eat their vegetables. This was the kind of place where anything could happen. This was full of magic—Patton could feel it strumming in the air like a plucked string, twisting in his ears and buzzing in his throat, thrumming in the soles of his feet. He swallowed and tasted ash, iron, and gold.

He held up the candle. It cast deep shadows on the leaves and branches around them, and did nothing to illuminate the roots by their feet. Patton tripped once, twice, three times. He swore the roots were moving when he didn't look.

He glanced back at the path. He could barely see it.

It was fine. A straight line. In and out—they'd be fine.

Janus would tell them to run. Janus would tell them to go back on the path. Janus would tell them they were idiots, that they were signing their death warrants, that they had to watch their step and escape now or they were going to die in these leaves and sink into this bark.

But Janus wasn't here to say that. Janus was far ahead of them, slipping between the trees like he'd done it all his life, chasing a small dot of light. Patton looked away as quickly as he saw it, but he still caught a little whisper of temptation.

_Come on. Take a risk. It will only take a minute._

Patton shook off the little voice and picked up the pace. Virgil followed, aiming his crossbow at the shadows, despite the fact that it was empty. His eyes were narrowed, his knuckles were white on the wood, and he was chewing on his lip. Patton couldn't blame him.

Up ahead, Janus tripped for the first time. Patton winced as he slammed into a tree nearby. Little leaves fell around him, black as ebony, rustling softly in the breeze. Janus didn't seem perturbed. He picked himself up and kept walking.

Patton opened his mouth to call Janus' name. The words died on his lips. He didn't like the idea of calling attention to himself. He didn't want to catch the attention of whatever was lurking in these Woods.

And things were lurking, all right. The shadows were peeling away. Patton glimpsed a great black dog, larger and shaggier and skinnier than the dogs in town, with gleaming white teeth and bloodred eyes. There was a bleached-clean bird with feathers as white as polished bone and eye sockets that dripped black ink. There was a mask, cracked and shattered at the edges, held in place by drifting silver ribbons, bearing a painted smile and one yellow eye. There was a twisted muscle-bound creature with hair cascading around its feet in a waterfall, six fingers on each hand, no skin and bone, only flesh knotted in an approximation of a human shape. There were dark eyes, light eyes, thin eyes, eyes that hypnotized Patton when he looked their way, eyes that narrowed and disappeared, eyes that glowed in the light, eyes close to the ground and eyes far up in the treetops and eyes too big for any human's, orange eyes and silver eyes and black eyes and golden eyes and red eyes, slit pupils and fiery coronas and leaking retinas and dark shadows and pointed eyelashes and no irises at all. Patton wasn't sure how many of them he was making up and imagining. Maybe he was dreaming half of them up. Maybe his mind was creating something from nothing, twisting the shadows into creatures from horror stories, the drawings that his moms always skipped in the storybooks. Or maybe it was all real. Maybe the creeping feeling of being watched was real, the chill splashing down his spine was real, the goosebumps on his arms were real, the shivering of his hands was real. The candle flame jumped and danced in front of him, the only thing keeping him going.

Janus kept walking ahead of them. Shadows lurked around him, bubbling and beckoning, reaching out to taste his shoulder or feel his arm. He didn't seem to notice.

Patton grabbed Virgil's hand—it was cold, damp, and trembling, and Patton was sure his was the same—and pulled them along. They stumbled and bumbled and bumped their way along. The candle sputtered in the wind. Janus grew closer, lit by the orb dipping around the trees, eerie yellow-green light making his skin look waxy.

The trees seemed to be closing in on them all. The shadows seemed to be reaching out for them. Patton felt hands on his neck, but when he turned around, there was nothing. Virgil said something and the words snapped halfway through, falling to the ground in shambles. Virgil tried again, and this time, the words were carried by the wind, brushed into a corner and hidden away.

Patton tried to speak and his lips lost the words as soon as they appeared. _Virgil? Are you okay?_

"Virgil?" asked the ground in Patton's voice.

"I don't like this," Virgil responded, except it wasn't Virgil. The trees were saying it, Virgil's rough voice dipping into the creaks and cracks of the bark.

_Virgil-Virgil-Virgil?_

_Patton?_

_Virgil—don't—Patton!—okay?_

Virgil opened his mouth to speak again and slapped his own hand over it. Patton followed suit, jamming his mouth shut. His own voice echoed around him as he broke into a run. Virgil followed. Together, they bolted between trees, tripping over roots and somehow managing to stay untangled, whispers in their ears and tingling fingers swiping at their skin.

"Janus!" Patton cried.

 _Janus, Janus, Janus,_ mocked the wind. Janus slipped between two trees and disappeared.

Patton didn't hesitate. He threw himself after Janus. And he stumbled into a clearing.

In it were the largest trees he'd ever seen.

In the darkness, they appeared black. Little glowing rivers of iron cascaded around them like waterfalls, dangling from their limbs, a curtain of silver. They were old and gnarled. Patton stepped forward and saw five, ten, fifteen trees. They all twisted to the sky and bled iron. They filled the clearing, surrounded by little gray flowers and damp grass. Before Patton was a small path through them.

Beyond that? An old chair, cracked and crumbling, made of marble and granite and sliced in the shape of spider legs.

Oh, _no_.

"Janus!" Virgil yelled, pushing past Patton and running to Janus, who was halfway down the aisle. He grabbed Janus' shoulder and yanked him backwards.

"Hey," Janus complained, turning around and swatting at Virgil. "What's your deal? I—"

"You're okay!" Patton broke into a grin, running over and grabbing Janus' hand. "Come on. We need to go. _Now_."

"What's happening?" Janus frowned, looking around them. "What—where did you take me? What did you _do?_ "

"What did _we_ do?" Virgil repeated.

"You must have done something!" Janus stared at the huge trees looming over them. "Where _are_ we?"

" _You_ stepped off the path, idiot." Virgil gestured violently to the chair. "And this is really creepy so we need to go _now_."

"I didn't—" Janus blinked a few times. "I…I did? I did. I—oh, _no_."

"It wasn't your fault, you got tricked." Patton tugged at Janus' hand. "We should go! Now!"

Virgil ran over to the trees. "Wait. Go where?"

Patton's heart sank.

"Oh, come on." Janus groaned. "You forgot where you came in?"

"We came in across from this aisle!" Patton pointed. "In between those trees."

"Yeah," Virgil said, motioning to the trees, "they're not letting us back out."

Patton looked closer. The trees had melted into each other, branches slotting into place. It looked like the wall of a nest. He ran along the edge and found that all the other trees had done the same thing. They were hemmed in.

They were trapped.

"Oh no," Patton whispered.

"Yeah, understatement of the century!" Virgil's voice pitched upwards in panic. "Can we climb it?"

Janus was already trying to scramble up the wall. A few branches whipped out and lashed his skin. One cracked against the back of skull and sent him plummeting to the ground. He stood up again, rubbing his head. "Nope."

"Oh no," Patton said again. "Oh no, oh no, oh no—"

"Stop freaking out!" Virgil said, his hands starting to shake. "It's freaking me out!"

"Kind of hard not to freak out," Janus snapped.

"I—" Patton started walking down the aisle. That stupid will o' the wisp was still dancing between the trees, and as it lit the trees nearby, he noticed that the whorls and loops and divots in the wood weren't random. He looked closer. Yes, that was an eye! And that was a nose, and that—

Oh _no_.

"Oh no," Patton said out loud, because why not?

"What is it," Janus said, sounding like he didn't want to know the answer.

"Look," Patton said, pointing.

And the entire place was lit up by a million fireflies.

Virgil yelped. Suddenly they were all bathed in yellow-green light, standing in the trees, watching little orbs flit around the leaves. A few settled around the throne on the dais, like little flowers, and others wobbled through the air like butterflies. Patton reached up and let one land on his hand. It tickled and made him feel dizzy. Then it flew away.

"This—" Janus' voice was choked. Patton whirled around. "This is…really, really bad."

Virgil nodded. Patton saw from their expressions that they'd seen what he'd seen.

In each of the trees was a person.

They looked like they'd been carved out of the wood. Like the figureheads on a front of a boat. The one nearest to Patton was a young woman, her nose firm and a scar lining her cheek, hair flowing into the wood with no join line. Her dress brushed the grass and her arm reached out into nothing. She looked like she'd been trapped there. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open.

The next tree was an older man. Then a child. Then a person in armor, then a shepherd, then a Faerie with piercing eyes and a bitter smile. They stretched around them, like a congregation before the queen, hands outstretched and faces stuck in horror.

"Alright," Virgil said faintly, "who's all for leaving? Like, right now?"

"Sounds good to me," Janus said, backing towards the edge of the clearing.

"Where are you going?" Patton asked. "We—there's no way out."

"There has to be!" Janus turned around, looking desperately for an exit. "There has to—we need to _leave_."

"This is so creepy," Virgil muttered, looking around at all the faces staring at them. "Like, I hate this."

"Stop looking," Patton advised, but he knew Virgil couldn't. Patton couldn't, either. He wasn't able to tear his eyes away from the faces twisted into the trees.

"Hey, that's weird," Virgil said, stepping forward.

"No!" Janus snarled. "No 'hey that's weird!' That is the sentence people say before disaster strikes!"

"I know," Virgil protested. "I was just looking over here. This tree doesn't have anyone on it. Maybe on the other side?"

He placed a hand on the tree and looked around at the other side. "Nope!"

"Kiddo," Patton said, his heart pounding, "get back here."

"Yeah, I see what you mean, there's just more dead people." Virgil turned around and walked toward Patton again.

He stopped a few steps in. Then he tried again. Something seemed to stop him. Virgil turned to his arm, still pressed against the tree trunk. He tugged. Nothing happened.

Patton's veins turned to ice.

"What did you do?" Janus whispered.

"I-I don't know." Virgil tried to peel his hand off the tree. "It won't move! It's stuck!"

Patton ran forward and tried to tug at Virgil. Virgil didn't move. It was like something was keeping him in place.

The tips of his fingers turned brown.

"No." Virgil started tugging harder, his eyes wild. "No, no, no!"

"Virgil!" Patton yelled. He grabbed wildly at Virgil's jacket and caught his sleeve. He pulled as hard as he could. He might as well have been trying to move a tree.

"I—no—" Virgil braced himself on the tree with one foot. The foot sunk into the tree, little tendrils of wood climbing up his leg. His whole hand was covered now. It reminded Patton of a glove. "No! I can't—Patton!"

"I'm trying!" Patton half-sobbed. " _Janus!"_

Janus appeared at his shoulder, reaching out but not touching Virgil. "Are you an idiot?" he yelled at Virgil, grabbing a rock off the ground and trying to chip away at the wood. "Why did you touch that?"

Virgil growled as the wood reached his elbow. "Well, you're the one who followed a random light! You're the one who told us no doing that!"

"I wasn't in control of myself!" Janus almost screamed. "You just touched a tree in a magical courtyard!"

"I didn't know it would do _this!"_ The relentless chipping away was doing nothing. Virgil tried to twist away, but the wood climbed up him. His hand was intricately carved wood. His sleeve turned to bark. "Janus, help!"

"I'm trying!" Janus said desperately. Patton kept tugging, like that would do something, but he knew it wouldn't.

"So stupid," Janus muttered, tossing the rock aside and looking wildly around. "Idiot, you're such an idiot, you're going to get yourself killed—"

Virgil made a small noise that might have been a sob. "I know! I'm sorry!"

Janus looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

"I'm sorry," Virgil repeated, pulling at the tree, eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

"Stop talking," Janus whispered, sliding his hands around Virgil's waist. They fit snugly above Patton's own. They tugged together. Nothing. Patton knew it would be nothing. But he couldn't just stop tugging. He couldn't let go. Not yet, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry!" Virgil pleaded, a few tears escaping down his face. "Janus, I'm sorry!"

"I know. I know." Janus shook his head. "I know."

"Come on, kiddo," Patton choked out, his throat sticky and rough. "Come on!"

"Pat—" Virgil almost screamed as the wood crept up his chest.

"Kiddo, it's okay," Patton said. It was the farthest from okay he'd ever been. "Come on. Come on."

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, grabbing at Patton and Janus' arms with his only arm. Trying to push them away.

Janus swallowed. "I forgive you."

And his hands closed over Patton's, tearing Patton away from Virgil and sending them crashing to the ground.

When Patton jumped to his feet again, Virgil was gone.

In his place was a statue, bleeding into the wood of the tree, one hand clasped to his chest, crossbow slung over his shoulder and bangs covering his eyes.

Patton instinctively reached out. Janus caught his hand.

"Virgil—" Patton shook his head. "Virgil!"

"Stay back," Janus said, trying to drag Patton away. "You shouldn't touch him."

"He's hurt!" Patton shook Janus off. " _Virgil!"_

"We can't _do_ anything!"

"You don't know that!"

"I do!" Janus took a deep breath. "Pat. We have to go. Now."

"Go where?" Patton demanded, his eyes burning and his cheeks red. "Go _where?_ We're _trapped."_

"We need to try." Janus tugged at Patton's hand. "Please. Please, or we're going to be next."

"We can't just _leave_ him!" Patton knew he was yelling, but he was too desperate to care. "He _needs_ us!"

"Well, _we_ need to stay alive!" Janus gave one last glance at Virgil. " _Patton!"_

"No!" Patton ripped his hand out of Janus'. "I'm not _leaving_ , Jan!"

"You're going to die!" Janus said desperately. "We're all going to die if you don't—"

Patton opened his mouth to respond. Something rustled between his feet. He looked down and yelped. A small black spider had crawled out of the tree, skittering its way along the grass, barely visible in the light of the fireflies.

Patton looked around at the trees carved with limbs and blank eyes and screaming mouths, the aisle leading to the dais, the silvery throne that looked like a spider.

_I'll see you soon._

Oh.

"Of course," Patton spat. "Of _course_."

"What?" Janus asked, reaching for Patton's hand again. Patton stepped away from him.

"It's her." Patton shook his head. His face was twisted in what might have been a grin. It didn't feel like one. "Of course it's her—I should have known. _Damn_ it!"

"Hey," Janus said, his eyes blown wide, looking at Patton like he was the dragon. Like Patton was dangerous. "I don't know what you're saying, but we need to get out—"

Patton wasn't listening. He was thinking. He was running through everything he knew. Virgil was trapped. Hurt. Not—not dead, just asleep? It was a spell. Which meant it had to be reversible. Was that how spells worked? Did it matter? There was a possibility it was reversible. Which was enough.

Patton swallowed. "Hello?" he asked the trees around them.

No one answered.

Well, Janus did. By pausing in his rant, giving Patton an incredulous look, and redoubling his efforts to drag Patton out of the clearing. It was a good thing he was injured, or he would have long succeeded. As it was, Patton was able to deftly slip out of his grasp.

Calling for the Faerie wouldn't work. He'd just have to get her attention in another way.

He ran down the aisle to the dais. Trees swayed around him. Fireflies lit his way.

"What are you _doing?"_ Janus yelled behind him.

"Sitting on the chair," Patton yelled back, the words tumbling from his mouth. He skidded to a stop at the foot of the dais. It was made of earth and grass packed tightly together into something approximating stairs. He took them one at a time until he was standing on top of the dais, facing the chair. It was a little bigger than him but not by much. He reached out and touched the side. Nothing happened. The material was cool and reminded him of spider silk.

" _Why_ are you—Patton!"

Patton looked down to see Janus standing at the foot of the dais, hair tangled around his face, cheeks pale.

"Get down!" Janus ordered.

Patton stuck his tongue out at Janus.

"You're going to—do you even know what that could do—"

Patton decided not to listen anymore. He needed to get the Faerie's attention, and sitting in her throne seemed like a pretty good way to do that.

Before Janus or his mind could talk him out of it, he turned around and sat in the chair.

And the bottom fell out from the world.

Patton couldn't describe it. Everything still looked the same—there was Janus, frantically yelling at him, and there were the trees around them, and there were the twisted figures of travelers long-gone, and there was Virgil with his crossbow and his bangs immortalized in wood, and there was the edge of the clearing with the walls of branches, and there were the stars still twinkling in the night sky. But something was different. Off. Fundamentally _wrong_ , like he'd torn a veil aside to reveal another layer of reality, like time was moving too fast and too slow all at once.

All the fireflies winked out.

All the trees rustled as one. And Patton could almost make out the words. He could almost understand the way their roots curled into the soil, the way the wind dashed along the ground, the way the stars dripped down from the sky. Everything was spinning. Voices clamored in his ear. The ground stretched away beneath him and the bark peeled away and he saw the iron climbing through the roots and veins of each tree like a poison, hemming him in, robbing him of breath.

The sky was lengthening and the world was stretching and he felt in a million places at once.

And then the air rushed back into place, the roots stopped squirming and whispering, the leaves stilled in the wind, the iron faded from view. Patton doubled over in the chair, feeling about to hurl, his heart hammering like he'd just run a race, his eyes itching and refusing to settle in his skull.

He heard his name. Someone was calling his name. He looked up to see Janus dashing up the dais, looking panicked.

"What happened?" Patton rasped, wiping at his mouth and feeling his legs wobble back into position. That was weird. He didn't realize his legs were wrong.

"I don't know," Janus said. "There was wind, and then your eyes started…glowing? The same color as the fireflies."

"The—" Patton looked around. He'd sworn the fireflies had gone out. He'd seen them go out! But they lazily swam around, as alive as ever.

"I—" Patton swallowed the bile in his throat. "I'm gonna get off this now."

"Good idea," Janus agreed.

Patton pushed himself forward and prepared to stand up.

"What are you doing in my chair?"

Patton made a strangled scream and practically fell off. Janus grabbed him and stopped him from plummeting off the dais entirely.

The Faerie was standing there, looking the same as ever, leaning on the back of the throne and giving Patton a vaguely curious look.

"Sorry!" Patton squeaked out, trying to back up as much as possible without falling off. "Um. My bad? I just—I just wanted to get your attention, I'm sorry, it's yours now!"

"My attention," the Faerie repeated, and oh no. She was starting to smirk.

"Yes," Patton said.

"No," Janus said at the same time.

The Faerie raised her eyebrow. "Conflicting stories, I see."

"We don't want your attention," Janus said, grabbing Patton's arm and trying to pull them both down the dais. "Apologies for bothering you, continue doing Faerie things, we will see you again never, have a horrible day."

"Jan—" Patton carefully slid out of Janus' grip. "She can help!"

"Help with what, our demise?"

Patton turned to the Faerie. "This is your court, right?"

"You could say that." The Faerie slipped around the chair and fell into it, kicking one leg up over the side, running her fingers along the armrest. "It's certainly not what it used to be."

"Right." Patton nodded. "So, um, you control the evil magic trees, right?"

"No one controls anything in these Woods. It's every creature for themselves." The Faerie's lips tilted in that smug smile again, and Patton felt a mixture of baseless anger and blind terror.

"But you can undo what they do," Patton prompted, forcing down the tumultuous emotions in his chest. "Right?"

"I'm capable of a lot of things." She nodded. "That is one of them."

"Great." Patton pointed at the tree with Virgil in it. "Turn him back. _Now_."

"Pat," Janus hissed between gritted teeth, "I'm not sure it's a good idea to order around the Faerie."

"Do we have a choice?" Patton muttered back.

"Who?" the Faerie asked, mock incomprehension on her face. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Virgil," Patton said, his voice snapping in the middle of the name. "Bring him _back_."

"Oh, no!" The Faerie pressed a hand to her mouth. "Your friend was turned to wood? How awful!"

"Shut up," Patton growled, "and turn him back _now_."

"Pat," Janus tried to say.

"You shut up too," Patton added, shooting Janus a glare. "We need to fix him!"

"A noble cause indeed." The Faerie grabbed a lock of hair and combed her fingers through it. She seemed completely unbothered by the situation, like this happened every night, or like she'd rehearsed for a play they were now performing. "Unfortunately, I can't."

"What do you mean, you _can't?"_ Patton insisted. All the fear was gone now. It was just desperation. He _couldn't_ leave Virgil behind. Virgil couldn't be—he wouldn't let—he had to do _something._

"I mean, I don't want to," the Faerie said simply. "So I won't bother."

"You—" Patton wanted to scream in frustration. "You _jerk!"_

"It's survival, little Fae. Only do what serves yourself." She nodded in Janus' direction. "He knows what I mean."

"Look." Janus had apparently given up on trying to shepherd Patton away. "Can you let us out of here?"

"I'd rather not, personally." The Faerie grinned widely. "You're much more interesting in my web than outside of it."

Patton's eyes burned, whether with anger or tears or residual magic from the throne, he wasn't sure. "Well, that's _stupid!_ You gave us food and everything—why help us if you're going to just let us _die?"_

"Oh, but starvation isn't entertaining at all!" she protested.

"And just turning someone to a tree is?" Janus countered.

"I think so!" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "I mean, did you see the looks on your faces? Little Fae, you seemed especially choked up—maybe I'll kill your other friend next and see how you react with no one behind you."

Rage bubbled up Patton's throat. "I'm gonna—you—" He clenched his fists and longed for the ability to punch her in the face. "I _hate_ you!"

"Why are you doing this?" Janus asked. "We—you don't _gain_ anything from this. We could destroy you or your throne. Why can't you leave us alone?"

"I'm _bored_." The Faerie shrugged. "And it's good practice! It's important not to get rusty, you know."

"Practice?" Patton asked warily. "For what?"

"Oh, practice for when I eventually break out of this cursed prison and destroy humanity and dragons alike." She smiled. "You know how it is."

"I don't," Janus said in a somewhat strangled voice. "As a matter of fact."

"Like you don't deserve it." Her voice was starting to drop from its carefully cheery register. "Like the Fae haven't been _attacked_ by you and your actions."

"Oh." Patton frowned. "Is this—are you—I kind of get that. But, y'know, taking out your anger on innocent people isn't—"

"Innocent?" she repeated, fangs gleaming. "You left us to _die_ in these Woods!"

Patton flinched.

"You chained us here," the Faerie continued, her eyes starting to burn black. "You poisoned these lands with your iron and you shackled us to this dirt. You crowded all magical beings alike into a space with no room to grow. You burned our skin with iron and stole any merriment from our days until half of us faded into the trees for good. And then you had the _insolence_ to cast _us_ as the villains? You tried to _destroy_ us!"

"Well." Patton smiled sheepishly. "Um, that wasn't us personally?"

"It was your kind. Humans. And _dragons_."

Patton had never heard someone say dragons with such vitriol. And he'd been friends with Virgil for years.

"Dragons should take pity on us," the Faerie continued, knuckles white on her throne, staring Janus down with blazing eyes. "Imagine me, asking for _pity_ , but it would have saved us. They could have stood behind their magical brethren. Instead, they built our prison walls higher. Only because they were too _cowardly_ to allow us to exist, too afraid that we might knock them from their pitiful pedestal, too weak to ever fight back if we decided to _erase them_ from the earth."

Janus swallowed. "I—to repeat Pat's words, that was not me personally?"

"If given the chance, however, you'd take their side."

"I—" Janus balled his fists and stood up taller. "We want to survive. You would have wiped us all out—you still would if we let you. You just admitted that. It's—it's nothing _personal_ to want to keep ourselves safe."

"Hmm." The Faerie's mouth opened, needle-sharp teeth gleaming. "Then it will be nothing _personal_ for me to rip you both to shreds."

"Wait," Patton protested, stepping forward, having no idea what he was going to say next but feeling he had to say something.

"I suppose you'll condemn me, too?" the Faerie asked, rounding on Patton. "I know your type. You think you're so much better than us only because you've managed to stay 'good' and 'pure.' Trust me, if you were in _my_ situation, if your Fae blood had given you more than a _speech impediment_ , you'd be a little less hung up on _ethics_."

"We—" Patton took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that happened to you—really, I am! But—taking your anger out on us isn't going to help anything!"

"Who said I was out to help?" The Faerie bared her teeth. "I remember saying the exact opposite."

"Look." Patton held up his hands. "We're—we're headed to the dragons. We're trying to figure out how to stop them from burning our towns, get our friends back…we could add 'how to help everyone in the Woods' to the mix. If you want?"

"And what will that do?" she asked. "Only a Faerie can undo a Faerie's work! Not even that! This place is entrenched in the fabric of magic itself. The iron is embedded in the structure of the Woods. You can't simply squash it out of existence like an irritating bug."

"That's not what I'm saying?" Patton paused. "Okay. Maybe that's kind of what I'm saying. But it could still be _possible_. We could make this place a little less mean, or try to make it bigger, or—"

"You can't."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do!" The Faerie waved her hand and laughed a bit. "I created this place, and not even I could destroy it! You may have big words, little Fae, but they mean less than nothing."

There was silence for a very long time.

"What?" Patton finally asked, his voice quiet.

"You…" Several emotions flashed over Janus' face. " _What?"_

"You created the Woods?" Patton shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "No! You're—but that doesn't—"

"Oh, little Fae," the Faerie said, her smile widening, "you didn't know? I built this place. I regret it now, of course—hundreds of years will do that to someone. But yes, this was all my creation."

Janus gave Patton a quick look. Patton didn't know what it meant, but he could make a guess.

He had a Fae ancestor. It was likely that his ancestor might have built one of the Iron Woods. This Faerie had built the Iron Woods nearest to his town.

Did that mean—

_No._

"Why would you create these Woods?" Janus asked slowly. "I understand that you might have grown to regret it, but what would motivate you in the first place?"

"I've always been a bit of a rebel," the Faerie admitted, looking simultaneously proud and resentful. "I never quite got along with most of the other Fae—I thought them dreadfully dull—and I figured I could knock them down a peg." She kicked out one leg. "Besides, I had a partner back then, a child—things were different."

"A child," Janus said, and Patton felt Janus' gaze on his neck. He pointedly didn't turn around. "You had a family?"

"For lack of a better word." The Faerie chuckled. "I'm not exactly the quintessential family man and I never planned to settle down afterwards. They're all long dead now, of course. I don't feel any particular desire to think about them much. It's like I said—hundreds of years will do that to someone."

Patton glanced down at his feet to make sure he was standing on solid ground. He was. And he wasn't in that chair anymore. So why did he feel so unmoored, like he was in the middle of an ocean, buffeted by waves he couldn't see?

"You—I—" Patton's voice was shaky. He took another breath and tried again. "We're—"

"Spit it out, little Fae," the Faerie instructed.

"I think…" Patton swallowed. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Never mind."

"Well, now you've got me curious!" She leaned forward, chin in her hand. "What doesn't matter?"

Patton gritted his teeth but the words spilled out anyway. " _I-think-we-might-be-related_."

"Related?" the Faerie repeated, face unreadable.

"Yeah?" Patton found himself rubbing at his sleeves, biting his lip, and staring at his feet. "At least—it's possible. You—you had a family, and the timing works out, and—yeah."

The Faerie was silent for a few seconds. "It's definitely possible," she finally agreed. "Maybe we are related. I don't suppose it matters either way."

"Yeah," Patton agreed, but his stomach rolled and the lie surely showed on his face.

"It matters to you," the Faerie amended, "clearly. But it hardly matters to me. Family or not, it impacts nothing. I'm still going to kill both of you slowly and painfully."

"Wonderful," Janus muttered. "Pat, this is when we run."

"Run where?" Patton hissed back. "And we still haven't helped Virgil!"

"For the _last_ time!" Janus whirled on Patton. "There is _nothing_ we can do for Virgil! Sorry to break it to you, but we're all going to _die!"_

"Listen to him," the Faerie advised. "He's making the first good point all night."

"You have to help us," Patton pleaded, turning back to her. His eyes were prickling with tears. He'd be humiliated at the idea of crying in front of her if this had not been possibly the worst night of his life. "Please. I—I'll do whatever, please let us all go!"

"You really want this," the Faerie said.

"Yes," Patton agreed. Probably a bad idea. But he had nothing left to lose.

"Well, then. You want something, I want something, we're at an impasse." She looked at Janus. "I'm sure your clever, cynical little friend can tell you what should be done."

"I—" Janus' face twisted. "Find something she wants so we can trade. But that's not happening."

"Something she wants," Patton repeated.

"Pat," Janus said. A warning.

Patton was way past listening to Janus.

"What do you want?" Patton asked the Faerie. "What can I trade you for Virgil?"

"I don't know," the Faerie mused, and by her expression she _did_ know and was just toying with him and this was probably what she's wanted all along. "What do you have to give me?"

Patton cast around for an answer. And of course there was the obvious one. It stared him straight in the face and dared him to take the offer. He would break all the rules. He would throw everything away. He would risk his best friend on a gamble.

For Virgil.

Virgil was worth it.

Patton swallowed and drew up his shoulders.

"I could give you my name."

Janus made a little sound like he'd been smacked across the face. Like Patton had just suggested petting a live bear. Like he'd just watched his dog die.

The Faerie watched Patton curiously, eyes alight with excitement. "You don't say."

"I—" Patton made the mistake of glancing at Janus. Janus' mouth had dropped open and his eyes were piercing and once again, he was silent. A silent Janus was bad. A silent Janus meant Janus was very scared, very confused, or very angry. In this case, maybe all three.

But he'd made his decision. Janus would understand.

"Yep." Patton nodded, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "I—I'll give you my name if you free Virgil and let all of us return to the path."

The Faerie looked at him for a long time, and Patton braced himself for the question, braced himself to give the one thing he promised never to share.

"Nope, sorry!" The Faerie didn't sound sorry. "You're part Fae. I can't take your name."

"You—" Patton was filled with several emotions at once. He settled on indignation. "Then why did you ask for my name last time we met?"

"To mess with you," she said as if it was obvious. "That's what I do."

"So…" Patton bit his lip. "I can't? Share my name?"

"I'm afraid not." Her eyes slid over to Janus. "Him, on the other hand…"

"No," Janus said lightly, his tone at odds with his shaking hands.

"It wouldn't be up to you." The Faerie inclined her head in Patton's direction. "The little Fae owns your name. If he chooses…"

Patton swallowed and wrapped his arms around his chest, trying to steady himself.

"So what'll it be?" the Faerie asked, her smile too wide for her face. "Will you trade him for Virgil?"

Patton looked at Janus, his voice dying in his throat.

A week ago, that would have been an easy choice.

Now?

Janus apparently tried to flash a smile. It didn't work. His lips tilted upwards and plummeted down just as quickly. His eyes didn't change at all. He broke eye contact and turned away from Patton, letting out a long breath. Patton could see from his profile that he was struggling to keep his face blank.

He assumed Patton would make the trade. And Patton didn't blame him, which almost made it worse.

Virgil—Patton had known Virgil for _years_. Janus was a dragon he'd met a week ago. It shouldn't even be a competition.

But there shouldn't _need_ to be a competition.

"Isn't there something else?" Patton asked. "That…that can't be the only thing you'll accept. Please, can I…is there something else?"

Janus' eyes flickered wide with shock, just for a second. He quickly smoothed his face again. But Patton had seen it. And it made him feel a strange mix of fond and guilty.

"I don't know," the Faerie asked, examining her hand. "There's not much I lack, little Fae."

That was true. She'd lived for centuries. She'd created the Iron Woods. She was more powerful than Patton could ever hope to be. She was a Fae.

But…there were things the Fae couldn't do.

"You don't get to eat," Patton said slowly. "Or lie, or dream."

"I hardly think I'm missing out." The Faerie narrowed her eyes. "You had better think of something quickly, little Fae. I'm tiring of this game."

And suddenly, Patton knew what he had to do.

"I…you're kind of missing out. Actually." Patton raised his hands. "Not like that much! Just…if I couldn't eat or dream, I'd be really sad."

"Is that so," the Faerie said. "I eat all the time, for your information. It's simply not necessary for us like it is for you humans."

"Yeah," Patton agreed, "but you don't dream, do you?"

The Faerie was silent for a long time.

"Dreams are so weird," Patton said, giggling a bit. It was forced, but he'd had a lot of practice faking a smile. "Kind of scary at times. But fun! You never know what you're gonna get. I—it sounds kind of boring to not have any. I'm curious what it's like!"

"You're trying to trap me," the Faerie said.

"Maybe," Patton admitted. "But…look. I—I think you're—you're not all bad. Well, yes. You are all bad. But you didn't use to be. And I like my dreams a lot, but if they can free Virgil and go to someone who needs them? I'll give them up."

The Faerie tilted his head. "Are you lying, little Fae?"

"No," Patton said.

Because technically, he wasn't. All of that was the truth. Just the truth specifically tailored to leave out the bad elements.

Thanks, Janus.

The Faerie hummed to herself for a few seconds. "You will trade your dreams for the release of your friend?"

"Yes," Patton said. "And safe passage back to the path."

"Oh, not so fast!" She laughed a little. "That's two gifts for the price of one, and I'm not fully sold on your offer yet. You'll need to offer me a little more than that for safe passage, little Fae."

Patton swallowed. "So…what else?"

"I don't know! There are so many good options." The Faerie held up a few fingers. "There's your firstborn child, your voice, your true love, your greatest wish—of course, those are only the classics. I could take your fear or your kindness or your sarcasm or your joy. Anything you possess, I can take."

Patton ran through everything he possessed. He didn't think he would have a firstborn child, and a true love would just be the same problem with sacrificing one person for another. His voice? He'd miss talking, but if it saved Virgil and got them out of here—

"Pat."

Patton jerked around to look at Janus. He had a strangely intense look on his face. He reached out and clapped his hand over Patton's mouth once again. Cold fingers over his lips. Janus' eyes watching him, yellow and burning brighter than the fireflies. Patton reached up and touched Janus' hand, but he couldn't bring himself to move it away.

"If he offers his dreams, and I offer something as well, would that be enough?"

Patton stared at Janus, hand forgotten entirely, wondering if he'd just heard what he thought he did.

"In theory," the Faerie agreed, looking more entertained than ever. "Are you offering?"

Janus swallowed. Patton watched his throat catch and settle. His lips were drawn tight and his hand still covered Patton's mouth. Patton tugged at it curiously. Janus squeezed tighter.

"Yes," Janus finally said, his voice simultaneously shaky and strong.

"No," Patton spluttered out right after him, shoving Janus' hand away. "No way!"

"Don't be so controlling," the Faerie teased, "he can do whatever he wants."

"But he can't—he shouldn't—" Patton turned to Janus. "You're not going to actually—what would you even _trade_ , Jan?"

Janus whispered something that Patton didn't catch. But the Faerie heard. She must have, because her eyes gleamed and she chuckled.

"That's a good trade," she finally admitted. "You're sure about this?"

"No, he's not!" Patton tried to say on Janus' behalf. Nobody even seemed to hear.

Janus swallowed again, reached out, and took her hand. It was a practiced motion. Like he'd done this before, or like he'd grown up hearing the same stories Patton had, about those who made deals with the Fae. They always ended up dead, destitute, or trapped in a Faerie's grasp. Surely Janus knew that. Yes, he _did_ know that, he'd said it when they walked into the Woods—don't talk to them, engage with them, or make a deal with them.

And now he was breaking his own rules.

Patton reached for Janus, but Janus was too far away.

The Faerie shook hands with Janus once.

And light exploded from their fingers, so hot and bright that Patton had to close his eyes. But he could still see it, burning through his eyelids. It was yellower than the fireflies and colder than any fire Patton had ever seen.

When the light faded, Patton opened his eyes again. Janus stood, still hand-in-hand with the Faerie. Yellow flames sunk into thin air with a hiss. He pulled his hand away like it had been burned. Light curled up from it in ringlets of smoke. He stared down at it nervously like he was afraid it would bite him.

The light faded. Janus' nervousness didn't. Neither did the wicked smile on the Faerie's face.

"Your turn," she said, turning to Patton and extending a hand, still lying on her throne without a care in the world.

Patton was still blinking the spots from his eyes. He looked at Janus again, to make sure he was okay, to maybe understand what had possessed him to do _that_. He found nothing. Janus' face was carefully blank and he had pressed his hand to his shirt, as if he could wipe away the magic from his fingers.

They had safe passage back. All Patton had to do was make his own trade, and Virgil would be okay.

Yeah. Not much of a choice, in the end.

Patton turned back to the Faerie, took her hand, and felt warm air trickle over his palm. Blue light danced down the crevices in his fingers and curled up his arm, glowing hotter and brighter and bigger and more powerful, until the whole world seemed to shimmer in cerulean and Patton tried to tug his hand away but only managed to make the heat increase. He closed his eyes. That was a mistake—all he saw was blue shadow and humming darkness.

Then the heat eased and dissipated. It hadn't even hurt. Patton wondered if it had been hot in the first place, or if it was all in his head.

Either way, he tore his hand out of the Faerie's grasp as soon as he could, cradling it to his chest. Little spurts of blue magic crackled and sparked into the air. They smelled like lavender and ozone and burnt meadows.

"Okay," Patton said shakily, because that was all he could think of to say.

"Wonderful!" The Faerie clapped her hands and sat up. "Thank you kindly, and I wish you the best of luck in the rest of the Woods! Mind your step on the way out."

And the Woods stretched around them and pulled tight like a rubber band, and Patton found himself collapsed on the ground in the middle of the trees, the dais empty and the Faerie nowhere to be found. A spider moseyed past his head and disappeared into a little hole. Patton didn't have the energy to scream.

"Pat?" he heard Janus say.

"I'm here," Patton replied, voice hoarse. It took him three tries to find enough strength to climb to his feet. He took one last look at the throne, but it remained resolutely still. The trees around them rippled and grasped and silently screamed. The fireflies floated among the stars. Janus climbed to his feet in the middle of the aisle, brushing off his clothes as if it would change the fact that they were muddy and torn and a mess, almost glowing at the edges as if he'd been torn from a book and pasted onto the scene. He didn't belong. None of this belonged. It was patchy and scratchy and all-together terrifying.

Something fell back into Patton's mind, and he frantically looked around for Virgil.

The tree he'd been in was empty.

Virgil was crumpled at the foot of it, crossbow in one limp hand, hair covering his face.

Patton dashed over. Virgil wasn't moving. He reached down and placed one hand on Virgil's shoulder. It was warm and soft and nothing happened, so he pulled Virgil into a less closed-off position. Virgil's eyes were closed, but he was breathing steadily and snoring a bit. It looked like he'd just fallen asleep.

"He's alright," Janus said, and Patton couldn't tell if there was relief in his voice.

Patton shook Virgil's shoulder. He didn't respond. "He won't wake up! Is he cursed?"

"Sleeping curses leave a mark on the victim and they usually require blood." Janus lay a hand on Virgil's forehead. "He's just sleeping. He should wake up soon."

"Well, he needs to wake up now." Patton looked down the aisle to where the wall of branches had been. In its place was an archway of thistles, leading down a small hallway to who-knows-where. Hopefully the path. Fae had to keep up their end of a bargain, right? "Will we have to carry him?"

"It looks like it." Janus slipped a hand under Virgil's shoulders. "You take his other arm."

Patton nodded. Together, they maneuvered Virgil into some sort of carry. It helped that Virgil was a little shorter than Janus. His feet scraped the ground and his head lolled on Patton's shoulder. Janus shifted to make sure his arms stayed around their shoulders. Despite Virgil being in-between them, Patton and Janus were very close to each other, and that made Patton's face flush just a bit.

"Let's go," Janus said. Then he paused. "He'll want his crossbow, probably."

"Oh! Right." Patton bent down and carefully grabbed Virgil's crossbow. It was heavy and unwieldy in his hand, but he tucked it under his arm. "Thanks, Jan!"

Janus bristled almost imperceptibly. "Let's go."

They walked down the aisle of trees and slipped into the Fae-made tunnel. The branches knotted together overhead. The path was just wide enough for the three of them. Patton's shoulders brushed the wall and something twitched and shivered at his touch. He jerked away.

"This was all a terrible idea," Patton finally said, almost laughing.

"It wasn't my idea," Janus reminded him. "It wasn't any of our ideas."

"I know." Patton actually did laugh this time. Or maybe he sobbed. It could have been either. "It was just—it was just bad. All-around."

"I'd like to know how you feel right now," Janus said slowly. "If you're okay."

"Who'd be _okay_ after that?"

"My question still stands."

Patton shrugged as much as he could with Virgil clinging to his shoulders. "I'm…I'm not great. Okay. It could be worse."

That was the simplest answer and probably the vaguest. He didn't know how to explain the crawling wrongness on his spine, the strange fluttering fire in his chest, and the tingling in his nose and eyes. Well, he could explain that last one. It meant he was going to cry soon. Patton wasn't looking forward to that.

"Your dreams," Janus said after another minute or so.

"Yep!" Patton chuckled. "Won't miss 'em."

"No?"

"They're—" Patton looked away. "They're mostly nightmares. Not fun."

Janus' eyes bore into Patton's cheek. "You don't sleep because of that."

Patton could lie. It wasn't a question. He just—he just didn't _want_ to lie. He was tired and sore and confused and angry and had just traded for his best friend's life. And Janus…Janus had sacrificed something too, even though Patton didn't know what. He deserved the truth. It was the least Patton could do.

"I don't," Patton agreed. "Not much. I—I try to keep myself awake."

"You can tell me what they're about," Janus said, "or you can't. Either one works."

"They're—" Patton hesitated for a long time. Janus didn't prompt him. "I think you can guess."

Janus was silent and Patton knew that he'd guessed already.

"It must have been scary," Janus finally said. "The raid."

"It was," Patton agreed. "Was it scary for you?"

"What?" Janus laughed a little. "I was one of the perpetrators. Why would _I_ be scared?"

"Still. Was it?"

Janus looked away. "The crossbow's slipping, be careful."

Patton looked down and shuffled Virgil's crossbow back into position. He decided not to press the issue. They walked in silence for a little while longer.

"What did you trade?" Patton asked.

"I'm not going to answer that," Janus said, almost smiling. "If I wanted you to know, I'd have said it out loud."

"I'm just curious." Patton watched Janus carefully. "I—I'd like to know."

"We don't always get what we want in life."

"Puh-lease? Pretty please with sugar and cherries on top?" Patton stuck out his lip. "I told you about my nightmares and everything, it's only fair!"

"Aha! Your master plan has been revealed!" Janus smirked. "You only opened up so _I_ would."

Patton giggled a little, too. It felt really good. "You caught me. I'm only being friends with you to get your deepest, darkest secrets."

"Alas, woe is me, I've been betrayed." Janus' smile turned a little more real. "It's all been a plot. I should have known someone so perky and innocent and perfect couldn't be real."

"I'm not perfect," Patton protested, but his grin didn't waver. "And you're the one with a master plan, remember?"

"I'm afraid I've forgotten. You'll have to remind me."

Patton chuckled. "You know. Betray us, destroy the entire world, create your own civilization?"

Janus raised an eyebrow. "That's the plot of a board game."

"I think you'd be good at it!" Patton bit his lip and watched the stars twinkle between the trees. "Seriously, though. I—I don't _need_ to know what you traded. But if it's going to hurt us later, or just change how we—how _you_ are—I feel like I should know."

Janus was silent, shadows playing across his face, staring down the path like he could see the end of it.

"I just said the first thing I thought of," he murmured.

"Which was?" Patton asked when Janus didn't continue.

"There's an old fairy tale," Janus said, hesitating between every word, "where a man made a deal with a Faerie to save his true love. It was never my favorite—a little too sappy—but I heard it millions of times."

Patton didn't prompt Janus this time. He waited and listened to the wind and hoped Janus would trust him enough to continue.

"'When you need it most, your strength will fail you.'" Janus said the words easily, digging into the consonants, like he'd recited it before. "It's an old saying. It might even outdate the tale itself. It's a good curse, too, as well as—as a good deal. It's vague and powerful and bites you back when you least expect it. The Fae love that sort of thing." His chin dipped. "Like I said. It was the first thing I thought of."

"When you need it most, your strength will fail you," Patton repeated, and something within him flared at those words. "What happened? To the guy in the fairy tale?"

Janus pressed his lips together. "He died."

"Oh," Patton said faintly, feeling yet another piece of him drift loose. He was feeling entirely too much and not enough at the same time. He would probably start crying soon. For now, it was like there was a sheet of glass inside him, cutting him off from the myriad of emotions whirling in his gut. Cool and firm and just sharp enough to hurt.

"Careful," Janus said. "Virgil will fall if you don't watch your step."

"Right." Patton nodded and focused on his feet and the touch of Virgil around his shoulders and the tickle of bangs. Janus was pressed against the back of his hand where Patton had laid it on Virgil's hip. It felt oddly secure.

"I shouldn't have followed the light," Janus said after a while, his voice unexpectedly bitter. "That was…it was the most basic trap in the book, and I fell for it."

"It's fine," Patton said. "It could have happened to any of us."

Janus didn't look convinced.

"Hey, c'mon! I've gotten us into trouble loads of times!" Patton smiled. "Remember the snake? We're all a little stupid sometimes. These Woods are designed to trick us. Don't feel bad for not being perfect."

Janus laughed a little. "You're not chiding me for my mistake? Truly a noble, kind soul. I hope you're not cold from the pedestal you're putting yourself on."

Mean words. But Patton wasn't offended. He heard the real message—Janus was afraid Patton would be mad, because _Janus_ had been mad when _Patton_ did the same thing. And now he was relieved and apologetic and had no idea how to say it.

"I forgive you," Patton said in response to the 'sorry' Janus hadn't figured out how to convey.

And something in Janus' face softened, just a bit.

"It's really not a big deal." That was a lie, but a white lie, and Patton liked its shallow safeness. "Besides, we got out alright, and that's what matters."

Janus looked behind them. "I'm not sure we did."

"We got out," Patton amended. "And that's…that can be enough for now."

"Right," Janus agreed, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the path—they reached the path, they made it, everything they'd traded hadn't been in vain—Janus immediately placed Virgil on his blanket and stumbled to his own sleeping bag. Patton barely managed a goodnight before he too was falling to the ground. He curled up on the blanket and his eyes drifted closed. Instinctively, Patton tried to jostle himself awake.

But he had nothing to worry about anymore. He'd handed his dreams away. Maybe it wasn't the healthiest way to get rid of nightmares.

It had saved Virgil, though. So that was worth it.

And as Patton slipped into a deep dreamless sleep, he felt more relaxed than he'd been for weeks.

Just as he drifted off, he swore he saw a flash of blue fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> virgil is not groot, does not appreciate the forced cosplay


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: minor panic attack, spiders, threatening and manipulation

Virgil woke all of them up with a loud scream.

Patton jumped up, tangled himself in his blanket, and fell to the path with a thump. Janus executed a more graceful tumble and roll, landing on his feet with his fists balled, looking around wildly.

Virgil didn't get up. He was sitting on the ground, hands shaking, his breath coming in uneven bursts. Patton spotted a few tears in his eyes.

"Virgil!" Patton exclaimed. Virgil flinched at the noise, and Patton lowered his voice. "How are you?"

"What—" Virgil paused and took a few deep breaths, hands clenched around his blankets, eyes wide. "I was—tree. There was a tree, and—"

"Oh. Okay, yeah." Patton cursed himself for not figuring that Virgil would be upset whenever he woke up. "Yeah, you're safe now, kiddo. Just breathe, okay? In and out. I can count for you, alright? In for four…"

Virgil followed Patton's instructions, and slowly, his hands loosened their grip. He still looked wild-eyed and lost, but no longer so shattered and unstable that he might fly apart at the seams. He took another shuddering breath and wiped his eyes, unfolding his legs and looking around.

"That was—" Virgil shook his head violently. "No. Never again— _no_."

"I'm with you there, kiddo." Patton carefully scooted towards Virgil. Virgil didn't move away. In fact, he leaned into Patton's shoulder. Patton wrapped an arm around him and rubbed his side in a rhythm. "That wasn't fun for us, and it must have been terrifying for you."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "Um. Sorry for waking you guys up."

"It's morning anyway," Janus said, sitting back down a few feet away, watching Virgil with an uncharacteristic cautiousness. "We would have risen soon. It's not a problem."

"We're just glad you're okay," Patton said. He brushed Virgil's bangs away from his eyes and looked him over. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just got turned into a tree," Virgil said wryly. "Nah, I'm alright. A little anxious, but I feel okay."

"Awesome!" Patton smiled. "Yeah. We're—yeah, I'm so glad."

"How'd you get me out?" Virgil asked. "I was sure I'd—you know."

Patton's smile froze a bit. He glanced in a panic at Janus, who looked equally unsure.

"I saw that," Virgil said, eyes narrowing. "You're not telling me something."

"What?" Patton asked, drawing the word out, his voice pitching unnaturally high. "No, never!"

"You're a terrible liar." Virgil turned to Janus. "What did Patton do?"

Janus hissed between his teeth. "I don't think this is relevant."

"I'm calling bull." Virgil was glowering now. "What _happened_. Are you—are you guys okay?"

"We're fine!" Patton held up his hands. "I promise!"

"Good, now tell me what you did."

"Okay. So." Patton worried his lip between his bottom teeth. "It turned out the person who controlled those trees was the Faerie we met earlier? The one who gave us the food? Yeah. And—um, she wouldn't let us out, and we needed her to free you, so—"

"So you…" Virgil's face was blank with incomprehension for a second. Then he almost jerked upright. "Pat, _no_. _Tell_ me you did _not_."

"Did not what?" Patton laughed sheepishly. "Finish your sentences, kiddo."

"Make a deal with a Fae."

Patton giggled again. "Ha! Um. Maybe. Sort of."

Virgil's eyes blazed. " _What_."

"Look, we needed to get you out of there!" Patton babbled. "And it wasn't even a big deal, I chose something I wouldn't miss, she kept up her end of the trade, and everything's fine now so we don't need to worry about it—"

"You made a deal with a—" Virgil stood up abruptly. "Are you _stupid?_ That's maybe the most ridiculous thing you've ever done! You could have _died_ , you could've gotten _us_ killed, you could have—"

"It's fine now," Patton insisted.

"It's not!" Virgil rounded on Janus. "Snake, why in the name of all that is on this earth didn't you _stop_ Pat from being an _idiot?"_

Janus made an awkward coughing noise and looked away. "I may have also. Made a deal with the Faerie. So I am really not one to judge."

Virgil was silent for a few seconds, but not because he was struck speechless—because he seemed to be fighting for words to convey his anger.

" _What?"_ he finally yelled.

"We needed to get out," Janus said. "It was the only viable course of action in the moment—"

"I don't care!" Virgil made a strangled screaming noise. "You're both _stupid!_ You don't just make _deals_ with _Fae_. What did you even _trade?"_

"Nothing," Janus said, his hackles raising.

"Clearly not, if she let you go!" Virgil ran his hands through his hair. "Ugh, I can't _believe_ you guys! You should have just—"

"Just what?" Patton asked. "Let you die?"

"No," Virgil said weakly. "I—maybe?"

Patton shook his head. "That is not an option and it never will be."

"Besides, even if we chose to leave Virgil alone—which I specifically recommended—we still needed to escape." Janus spread his hands. "Believe me, I wish there had been another option, but I didn't see one."

Virgil huffed and started pacing back and forth on the path, his feet digging into the dirt. "We can fix this. We can fix this! We can—we can just summon her again, and we can undo the trade, and then—"

"And then you're put back in a tree and we're slowly killed," Janus said. "A wonderful plan. Bravo."

"We could trade something else! So you're not in debt to a _literal Faerie!"_ Virgil ran his hands through his hair again. "Maybe I could trade something! Or—"

"Yes," Janus agreed, "after yelling at us about making deals with the Fae, you go and make more deals with the Fae. Not hypocritical at all."

"Can you shut up for two seconds?" Virgil snapped. "I'm trying to get you _out_ of this mess!"

"Kiddo." Patton stood up and placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "I get that you're frustrated. But—we made our choice, and there's no turning back, and we should all just try to settle into it."

"How are _you_ telling _me_ to settle into it?" Virgil said almost desperately. "If it was _me_ who did the deal, you'd do the exact same thing!"

Patton winced. Because the problem was, Virgil wasn't _wrong_.

"You're welcome," Janus muttered. "Next time we'll just leave you in the tree, then."

"I—you—" Virgil kicked at nothing in particular. "You're _insufferable!"_

"I try to be."

"And you're succeeding!" Virgil waved his hands at everything in particular. "Can't we _fix_ this?"

"There's nothing to be fixed." Patton bit his lip. "Kiddo…sometimes we have to make sacrifices. That happens. And you can't feel guilty about it."

"Guilt?" Virgil almost laughed. " _That's_ what you think this is?"

Patton frowned. "What is it, then?"

"I'm worried!" Virgil yelled. "Duh! I'm worried you'll get killed or _hurt_ because of this—because of _me!_ "

Janus raised a finger. "That sounds like guilt, actually."

"Well—" Virgil huffed. "Maybe a little bit. But mostly, I'm _scared_." His voice cracked and he collapsed to the ground, sitting with his knees tucked to his chest. "I'm scared for you guys."

Patton looked at Janus, who looked just as lost.

"We'll be fine," Patton chose to say.

"You don't know that." Virgil laughed bitterly. "Have you heard the stories? Nobody who makes a deal with a Faerie ends up _fine_."

"Well, nobody makes it through the Iron Woods, and we've been doing a pretty okay job of that!" Patton pressed a hand to his chest. "We're awesome! And we can do anything!"

"I think what Pat is trying to say," Janus said, "is that there's no use worrying about it now. Whatever happens, happens. For now, all we can do is continue through the Woods as normal. Trying to undo what happened will probably only make things exponentially worse."

"Right," Patton said. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it!"

Virgil didn't look fully convinced. But he uncurled just a bit, so that was progress.

"What happened?" he finally asked. "I'd like to know."

Patton looked over at Janus. "You're the good storyteller here."

"There isn't a story to tell," Janus said. "Virgil was trapped in the tree and Patton refused to leave without trying to help him. He sat on the Faerie's chair, everything glowed for a bit, the Faerie showed up and taunted us, Patton tried to give away his name but apparently he can't since he's part Fae, we both ended up trading things away for safe passage, everything was on fire for a second, and we dragged you back through a tunnel of thistles and fell asleep."

Virgil blinked a few times. "Yeah, um—that sounds like a story. That should be told."

Janus shrugged. "There isn't much to add."

"Well, there's a heck of a lot to _explain_." Virgil tapped his hands against his knee. "Okay. First. Patton, you sat on _what."_

"Her throne." Patton sucked in a breath. "It…seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Right," Virgil said. "Of course. Carry on. You said…what did you guys trade?"

Janus looked at Patton and Patton looked at Janus.

"My dreams," Patton finally said. "Not, like, aspiration kind of dreams. When-you-fall-asleep kind of dreams."

"Huh." Virgil looked almost relieved. "That's…not too bad."

"It's actually kind of good," Patton admitted. "I don't like my dreams very much."

Virgil frowned. "No?"

And Patton immediately realized that he'd been about to admit his nightmares. Which he'd carefully hidden from Virgil. Well, fiddlesticks.

"There seem to be no ill effects so far," Janus cut in, coming to Patton's rescue intentionally or unintentionally. "As for what I traded, I have no idea."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You don't know what you traded or you don't know if there will be any ill effects?"

"The latter."

"Then what _did_ you trade?"

Janus shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing."

"Jan," Patton chided.

"It's nothing!" Janus said. "Let's move on!"

" _Jan_."

Janus sat on his hands and blew a bunch of air out of his mouth.

"I deserve to know," Virgil said, "since you basically sacrificed whatever-it-was for me."

"Fine." Janus rolled his eyes. "Ever heard of the tale of Forgotten Lovers?"

Virgil frowned. "Any relation to the tale of Lost Lovers?"

"What's that one about?"

"Girl gets lost, guy makes a deal with the Fae to get the girl again?"

Janus nodded. "I think so. They could be two different versions of the same story."

"Huh." Virgil chewed on his lip. "So. Why'd you bring that up?"

Janus' mouth worked for a few seconds before he finally spoke. "'When you need it most, your strength will fail you.'"

Virgil stared at him. "What are you—oh, come _on_."

"It was the first thing that came to mind!"

"That's, like, the worst deal you could possibly make!" Virgil was apparently back to wild anger. "I thought you were somewhat _smart_. Don't you know what happens to the guy in that story?"

"I know," Janus said, looking bored.

"He, like, turns evil and stabs his wife!" Virgil threw up his hands. "Seriously, snake? That's gonna bite you in the butt. Couldn't you have chosen _anything_ else?"

"I know—" Janus paused. "Wait, he does _what?"_

"You know." When Janus didn't answer, Virgil continued. "He gets lured away into the Woods and his strength of will fails him and he turns evil, I think? Then he betrays everyone and kills his wife and drowns his newborn child." Virgil winced. "It's…not really a fun story. It's just another warning to keep away from the Fae and anyone associated with them."

Janus looked vaguely disturbed. "That is… _not_ our version."

"What's your version, then?"

"He dies in ours." Janus shrugged. "He loses his strength during an important battle and gets stabbed. It's a lesson about not compromising your own strength and survival for anyone, not even someone you love."

Virgil winced. "Well, _that's_ just depressing."

Patton frowned. "I've never heard either of those."

Virgil looked kind of guilty. "Yeah, you wouldn't have. Our moms— _I_ —tried to avoid telling stories like that."

"'Cause they're gruesome?"

"Yeah." Virgil sucked in a breath and let it out. "And—you know, it's not very Fae-positive. The message kind of advocates burning all Fae and their ancestors at the stake."

"Got it," Patton said, feeling suddenly very awkward. "It's—it's neat that you both have those different stories. Which do you think is the real one?"

"They're folktales, Pat." Janus laughed. "I doubt either of them is anything close to real."

"Anyway." Virgil shrugged. "You're gonna die or turn evil, Jan. Well, I mean, you've already done the second one. But you know what I mean."

Janus watched Virgil carefully. "You don't seem very upset about the idea."

"Oh, trust me, I'm internally screaming." Virgil raised his hands and let them fall. "But you know what? You were stupid, we're all gonna die, let's move on. Anything else I should know?"

"I think that's it," Janus said.

Patton paused. "Um. I think—maybe?"

"What is it?" Janus asked.

"You know what it is!"

"I don't."

Patton gave him a significant look. "You know, what we _learned_."

Janus inclined his chin. "Fine, then, tell him."

Patton winced. "Can you?"

"You're the one who wants to tell him!"

"But I don't want to—actually— _say_ it."

Virgil was looking more and more confused. He swiveled his head between Janus and Patton like he was watching a duel. Finally he said "You're not telling me something."

" _Jan_ isn't telling you the something!"

Janus rolled his eyes and leaned back, hands on the path. "It doesn't matter to me. If you want him to know, tell him yourself."

Patton sighed and gathered his courage. "Um. So. You know the Faerie we met? She—turns out, she made this whole place."

"Really?" Virgil whistled. "That's impressive. Also explains how evil and malevolent it is."

"Yeah." Patton nodded. "Um. And—it's likely—I mean, it's possible—there's a good chance that we're—that she's my—you know—"

Virgil's eyes widened. "Oh."

"And Jan didn't tell you that," Patton said, deciding to turn on Janus because it got the attention off of him. "For some reason."

Janus raised one eyebrow. "You said it didn't matter."

"It _doesn't_ matter!"

"Then why did you want to tell him?"

"Because!" Patton spluttered. "He deserves to know this stuff!"

"This stuff," Janus repeated, both eyebrows high in the air, "that doesn't _matter_."

"Yes!" Patton threw up his hands. "Look, I don't know, okay? I don't—I don't know."

Janus was silent. Patton curled up tighter on the ground, avoiding looking at Virgil and Janus, his eyes stinging.

"You're the one that said family is who you choose," Janus said.

Patton looked up.

"You're the one who tried to convince me that ancestry doesn't matter, and that family isn't family unless they treat you well and care about you." Janus huffed. "Sometimes you're a real hypocrite, Pat."

Patton found himself smiling, just a bit.

"And I have a feeling," Janus said, smiling back, "just a gut feeling that—bear with me here—someone who tries to kill you and your best friend isn't great family material."

"Yeah," Patton agreed. "Definitely not. Nobody hurts my best friends."

Janus gave him a little more smile, and Patton felt just a little bit better. His arms still ached and his chest still flared with foreign fire and his mind still buzzed with questions, but he felt a bit less like he might collapse and start sobbing at any given moment.

"We should get moving," Janus said, standing up. "Do you want to eat?"

"Sure," Virgil said, grabbing the nearest knapsack. He opened the flap and reached in.

Several dozen spiders exploded from the top, scurried their way down the side in a glittering black waterfall, and poured onto the path.

Patton screamed and jumped away. Virgil immediately dropped the knapsack. The spiders hurried in a little stream down the path and in-between two broken ladders. They disappeared into the forest.

"Well," Virgil finally said. "Looks like breakfast was canceled. And lunch. And dinner."

"It's all gone?" Janus asked.

"Yep." Virgil glanced at the other two knapsacks. "I assume those are, um, infested as well."

"What?" Patton squeaked, scrambling away from his knapsack. "Well, I'm not opening that! Ever!"

Janus sighed. "Give it here."

Patton kicked the knapsack towards him.

Janus grabbed the knapsack, walked over to the side of the path, and dumped it out. Spiders fell in several large clumps on the dirt. Patton held his breath until they had vanished into the shadows.

"Here," Janus said, picking up the few things left in the knapsack and handing it to Patton. "Spider-free."

"I'm not touching that," Patton said, "because spiders touched that."

Virgil frowned. "But spiders touched _you_."

Patton grinned and tried to keep his hands from shaking. "Don't remind me."

"There's not much in here anyway." Janus opened his own knapsack and let the spiders run off into the Woods. "I can carry your things if you'd like."

"Really?" Patton jumped up and hugged Janus around the waist. "Thank you!"

Janus jerked at the contact but didn't move away. "I…you're welcome. Now we should get moving—if we're not going to eat, it's best that we try and continue. If we make good time we could be at the chasm by evening."

Virgil's eyes widened. "The what now?"

"You'll see." Janus carefully escaped Patton's grasp and slung the knapsack over his back. "Come on."

Patton and Virgil rolled up their blankets and followed, leaving Patton's knapsack strewn on the ground behind them.

"I hope you feel alright," Janus said to Patton quietly as they began their walk down the path.

"Yeah, I—" Patton focused on the buzzing flare in his chest. "I feel…good. Kinda weird. But alright."

"Weird."

"Not a bad weird. Just like one of the fireflies got stuck inside of me."

Janus frowned a bit. "I don't feel like that."

"Huh."

"It could just be residual magic," Janus said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. "Maybe from when you sat on the throne, or just the deal in general. It'll probably fade with time."

"Right," Patton said.

It didn't feel residual. It felt like something was waking up or digging deeper or catching fire.

"Hurry up," Virgil said almost jovially from ahead of them. "Stop yapping and focus on the path—you're gonna need to watch your step. No more will o' the wisps, got it?"

Janus nodded, and so did Patton, and that was the end of their conversation.

The path ended that afternoon.

One second they were walking down the path as normal, trees bowing and swaying in the wind. The next, the trees around them dropped away, replaced by bare stone. The next, the path itself petered out into a few clumps of dirt on the rock.

Janus, Virgil, and Patton stood at the end of the path, looking over a chasm.

It was a few hundred feet wide. The edge was only ten feet away. Beyond that was a steep drop that bounced up on the other side, sheer and narrow like a knife had been dragged down the surface of the world. Bleached white stone crumbled at the edges. Patton was reminded of a layered cake with stiff sides and icing on top.

The icing was the thorns on the other side, dark and twisting and creating a wall or a cloud or a barrier. Beyond them the jagged gray peak of Dragon Mountain split the sky, tilting to the side and ending in a point sharper than a new pencil. It was unlike any mountain Patton had ever seen, and he wondered if it had been thrust up from the earth through magic, or was made of stone that the wind couldn't wear down.

"Wow," Virgil said. "Think you need any _more_ security?"

"We're out." Janus didn't seem to have heard Virgil at all. He was almost smiling. "We made it out."

Patton turned around and stared at the Woods only a few steps away. The path coiled into the shadows and disappeared. The trees hung in the air. He'd almost expected…more. He'd expected some final challenge, for the Woods to reach out and grab them and tug them into the heart of the trees and bind them to the iron thrumming beneath their feet.

Well, best not to jinx it.

Patton took one careful step away. Then another. Then another, until he was almost teetering on the edge of the canyon. Dangerous, yes, but he wanted to get as far away from the Woods as possible.

"So," Virgil said, staring at the canyon and the thickets and the Mountain and the iron-gray sky. "What now?"

"There," Janus said, pointing down the canyon. There was a little strip of rock between the Woods and the empty space, a few dandelions growing in the cracks. A little ways down was a small rope bridge, nailed into the stone and swaying over the canyon.

"That does not look safe," Virgil said.

"Well, I'll make sure to choose the other bridge with safety nets and suspension cables." Janus rolled his eyes. "Oh wait."

"Come on, then!" Patton bounded forward and dashed along the edge of the canyon. He peeked into it as he ran. There was no sign of a bottom, just a vague pale mist and white marble-like cliffs.

When he reached the bridge, he stopped and waited for Virgil and Janus. They both took their time making it over. Patton probably shouldn't have ran, he realized—he was only feet from a very huge chasm. But he was just excited! He could feel the sun on his skin for the first time, and the air was fresh and boundless and no longer tainted with ozone and wet leaves. They were back in the open. They'd made it _out_.

"We did it," Patton whispered, turning to Janus and Virgil and giving them each a huge hug. Virgil hugged back. Janus didn't, but he also didn't pull away.

"We should get moving," Janus finally said with a pointed look. Patton stepped away sheepishly and turned back to the bridge.

"Now that I'm looking at it close up," Virgil said, frowning, "it's not as bad as I thought. It's way worse."

Patton had to agree. The bridge was narrow and made out of wooden slats with old rope holding them upright. The nails on the end were rusty, the slats were wet and broken in places, and it swayed in the wind over the cliff.

"I'm not sure about crossing that," Patton agreed. "When's the last time someone fixed it?"

"Never." Janus shrugged. "We don't want visitors. Why would we give them a bridge?"

"So where do you guys go?" Virgil asked. "Can we do that instead of braving the death-bridge of doom?"

Janus stared at Virgil for a long second. "We are dragons. We can _fly_."

"Oh." Virgil blinked a few times. "I—oh, yeah. My bad."

"You can't fly us over there, right?" Patton asked.

"No."

"Yeah. Figured." Patton shrugged and put on a smile. "We'll just have to—do our best, then."

"Great," Virgil said, staring at the bridge like it had personally killed his family.

"Go slow," Janus advised, stepping forward. "One person at a time, maybe? And watch your step."

He took another step forward, reaching for the side of the bridge.

A blast of wind ruffled Patton's hair.

Janus stumbled backwards.

Something was sitting in front of the bridge.

It was just a little bit bigger than a large dog, with furry paws tucked under its front and a long twitching tail. Two little fluffy wings flapped wildly at the air but didn't seem to do much of anything. Its face was a woman's, with a flat nose and little dots above the eyes and a stern mouth. Its eyes were a deep amber.

"A sphinx," Janus said. "Wonderful."

"Wonderful," the sphinx repeated in a husky voice. "A good word. Possibly used in an ironic sense."

"Is that bad?" Virgil inched backwards, hand on his crossbow. "Do we fight it?"

"Fight." The sphinx's back leg rose up and scratched at its ear. "Vague. Undefined. Could refer to either a physical or verbal altercation."

"It shouldn't be too bad." Janus waved a hand. "Sphinxes are mostly harmless. They're gatekeepers."

"Right! I remember the stories!" Patton smiled. "You know, they like to tell riddles!"

"Riddles," the sphinx agreed. "Synonyms include puzzles, tricks, and jokes. Joke—J is one of the rarest letters in the alphabet."

"Okay," Virgil said, looking a little less afraid and a little more confused. "So it's gonna tell us a riddle?"

"That's likely." Janus looked down at the sphinx, which was now reciting words that started with J. "If it ever gets around to it."

"Hey!" Patton waved his hand in front of the sphinx's face. "Um, it's nice to meet you! What's your name?"

The sphinx blinked once. "I am a sphinx. Uncertain why you ask for information you already possess."

"Oh, I meant—um—" Patton smiled. "I'm Patton! It's so cool to talk to you."

"I have never met a Patton." The sphinx tilted its head. "Are you part of the Lepidoptera family?"

"The what?"

"Butterflies," Virgil explained. He coughed and looked vaguely upset. "Um—Logan told me."

"Oh." Patton nodded. "I'm not a butterfly! I'm a human!"

"Human." The sphinx blinked again. "Humans are not permitted."

"I know," Janus said impatiently. "I know the rules, my family made them. _I'm_ not human. Can _I_ go across?"

"Dragon." The sphinx nodded. "Yes."

"Great. Can they come if they're with me?"

"Humans are not permitted."

Janus sighed and grabbed Patton's arm. "They're prisoners, then."

"Prisoners," the sphinx said. "Those who are kept in captivity against their will, usually as punishment for a crime."

"That's right," Janus agreed. "I've kidnapped both of these humans."

Patton nodded and tried to look kidnapped. Virgil just folded his arms.

"You could be a liar." The sphinx scratched its cheek. "Deception. I have been told to trust no one."

"But _we_ told you that!" Janus groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. " _Please_ just let us cross."

"Humans are not—"

"I _know!"_ Janus looked about three seconds from punting the sphinx off the cliff. "I am well aware, so please give me something constructive to work with!"

"I am under orders."

"Who gave you these orders anyway?"

The sphinx hummed to itself. "Large spiky woman. A Mara. Not a species of Lepidoptera."

"Mara," Janus repeated, his face doing an impressive display of simultaneous annoyance and disgust. "Of course it's Mara."

"Who's Mara?" Patton asked.

Janus' teeth skated over his bottom lip, almost too fast to notice. "She was in charge."

"Not anymore?"

"I'm not sure." Janus glanced up at the Mountain. "The hierarchy of power can change a great deal in a week."

"Whatever," Virgil said, stepping up to the sphinx. "Let us pass, okay? It's important."

"Important. Vague. Please elaborate."

"We're gonna—"

"Idea," Janus said mildly, cutting Virgil off. "Don't tell your plan to a creature that works for the dragons you're planning to _visit_."

"Please can we pass?" Patton tried, giving the sphinx his best puppy dog eyes. "It'd be so nice of you."

"Nice," the sphinx said. "Vague. Undefined. Please elaborate."

"This is ridiculous," Janus announced to no one in particular. "You can't sweet-talk a sphinx. They're viciously literal. Either we kill this thing—"

"Kill me," the sphinx said, blinking innocently, "and bridge rejects you."

"—or we appeal to its love for knowledge." Janus paused. "Sphinx, if you let us all pass, we'll tell you a new word?"

"Know all words," the sphinx countered. "And price already must be paid. Dragon may pass, pay price, see other side. Humans must go."

"I hate this," Virgil announced.

"Hey!" Patton said. "I think it's kind of cute! Frustrating, but cute!"

"Cute or not, we need it to let us pass." Janus bent down until he was on his knees, eye to eye with the sphinx. Yellow against amber. The sphinx stared curiously back.

"You were saying something about Mara earlier," he said slowly. "Do you know her well?"

"Know not." The sphinx shook its head rapidly. "Smart. Sphinxes smart. Stay out of way."

And Patton could see the moment Janus' eyes gleamed with the light of a plan. The moment his face shifted, and his frustrated grimace turned into a smirk.

"Aww," he said, "don't tell me you're _scared_ of Mara."

The sphinx shook its head again. "Incorrect adjective. Wary. Cautious."

"All comes down to the same thing." Janus laughed a bit. It wasn't his real laugh, the one Patton always tried to hear, light and cheerful with a bit of a snort. This was a smug little chuckle that Patton knew well. Janus was messing with the sphinx.

Patton didn't know how he felt about that.

"Quite honestly, I don't blame you." Janus extended a hand and examined his fingernails as if he was bored with the conversation already. "She's a real force of nature, isn't she? You've heard what happens to those who don't follow orders, I'm sure." He waved his hands in a strange complex motion. Patton caught a smash of something against a wall, a plume of smoke, and a slice across his chest.

The sphinx didn't wince, but it muttered to itself "Danger. A situation in which there might be harm to oneself or others."

"That's right! You're smarter than you look!" Janus clapped his hands together, eyes shining with something unfamiliar. "Now, what do you think will happen to you if you disobey direct orders? It's a simple logic problem—a riddle, if you will. I know you love those."

"Am following orders," the sphinx protested.

"I suppose," Janus said languidly, "but you're overlooking the fact that I've brought two human captives. One of them is part Fae and the other—" Janus cast a disparaging look at Virgil. "Well, he's rather useless, but he's strong enough. There's a lot we can do with them, and I think if Mara were here, she'd agree."

Virgil gave Patton a wide-eyed look. Patton was probably returning it.

"Orders!" the sphinx insisted, but its shoulders were sinking. It was crouching away from Janus.

Janus didn't look guilty. He just smiled wider than ever.

"Your orders have been overruled." Janus waved a hand. "Don't test me again. Mara doesn't like it when opportunities are wasted." He opened his mouth and fangs poked out over the edge of his lip. "Neither do I."

"Threat," the sphinx muttered. "Threat, threat, threat."

"Yes, it is." Janus clapped sarcastically. "Good job. Now let us pass, or we'll find out just how flammable your fur is."

Patton flinched involuntarily. Janus looked up. For a second, the piercing look fell off his face, and his mouth opened a bit.

"Pass," the sphinx said. "Humans pass."

"Oh, thank heavens, we're done." Virgil tried to push past the sphinx. "C'mon, let's go already."

"Pay toll." The sphinx's eyes flashed amber. "Now."

"Okay? What's the toll?" Patton raised his hands placatingly. "We'll pay it, as long as it's not too weird or dangerous."

"It's probably a riddle." Janus rolled his eyes. "If it's the what-walks-on-four-legs one, I'm going to be disappointed."

"Not me," Virgil said. "I _know_ the answer to that one. I don't want a really hard riddle that'll get us tossed into the void."

"No riddle." The sphinx sounded vaguely disappointed.

"Then what?" Patton asked, nervousness fluttering in his chest.

"Secret," the sphinx said.

"Secret?" Janus repeated.

"Secret. An idea or fact that is not meant to be known by others." The sphinx poked at a tuft of fur on its paw. "Tell secret, cross bridge."

"We each tell a secret?" Virgil shrugged. "I don't like tomatoes, then."

"That's not a secret," Patton said. "I knew that."

"Well, the snake didn't."

"I know _now_." Janus rolled his eyes. "And I have a feeling your secret tomato-loathing isn't what the sphinx is talking about."

"Big secret. Good secret." The sphinx nodded. "Tell the hole and cross bridge."

"Tell the hole?" Patton clapped his hands together. "Oh! You mean the canyon!"

"We whisper a secret into a random pit," Virgil muttered. "Not weird at all."

"I'll go first." Janus walked to the edge of the chasm until his toes scraped the air. He bent over and whispered something. Patton could almost make it out. It was clear and thick like molten honey, and it dripped its way into the chasm and disappeared.

The sphinx did a little shimmy. "Good secret! Nice secret. Humans go now."

Virgil nodded and shifted closer to the canyon. "I don't like tomatoes," he told the air.

"It's not a secret if we can hear it," Janus said, stepping away. "Also, that's still a terrible secret."

"I don't have a lot of secrets, okay?" Virgil groaned and turned back to the canyon. "I mean, I guess there's—"

His voice lowered and another secret dropped into the chasm. It was rough and earthy like a long-buried treasure.

"Secret," the sphinx said happily.

"My turn, I guess?" Patton scooted over to the edge. His stomach swayed as he looked down. He couldn't see a bottom. Just mist and carved-away rock and the whisper of winds far below.

A secret. A good secret. Something that nobody knew—not Janus, not Virgil, not Logan or Roman or Remus.

Patton leaned over as much as he could, hands grasping his side, staring into the depths of the canyon.

"I—" The words trembled on his lips. He tried to lower his voice even more until it was barely audible. He knew the mist would hear him anyway.

Patton breathed out and let the words fall out into the wind.

"I'm not a good person."

He watched them spiral into the mist, lengthen, and disappear—gossamer strings and cotton tufts, dandelion seeds easily blown apart.

"Secret," the sphinx said, nodding happily. "Thank! Pass now."

"Neat!" Patton forced a smile and turned away from the edge. "One at a time?"

"All together," the sphinx corrected.

"That can't be safe," Virgil said.

"Well, the sphinx has spoken." Janus shrugged. "I suppose all we can do now is cross."

Patton walked back over. They stood in front of the sphinx, who was looking more excited than Patton had ever seen it. He felt kind of good about that. Maybe his secret was good for more than weighing him down.

"Careful," the sphinx said.

"We will be," Virgil agreed.

"Careful," the sphinx repeated. "Secrets echo."

Patton glanced at Virgil and Janus to see if they understood that. They looked just as confused as he felt.

But they didn't get a chance to demand an explanation. There was another gust of wind and the sphinx was gone, leaving a little imprint in the stone. The bridge swung in front of them, empty and rotting and looking very, very unstable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why is the sphinx my favorite character in this whole thing


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: self-hatred, symptoms of depression and disassociation, crying, panic attack, anxiety, arguing

"I'll go first," Janus said, sounding he would prefer to do just about anything else.

"You do that," Patton said, because he didn't want Janus to get hurt but the bridge looked very wobbly indeed.

"Are you sure you can't fly?" Virgil asked.

"We'll call that plan B." Janus carefully placed one foot on the bridge. It creaked a bit but held firm. "Take it slow, remember? And watch your step."

"We'll be right behind you," Patton said, trying to smile.

Janus stepped onto the bridge.

It swayed a bit, and Patton's heart almost stopped. But the winds died down and the bridge held. Janus grasped one side and started walking across it, slow and careful, his hair whipping around him.

"Alright," Patton said to himself. "You can do this, Patton! You can do this."

He walked up to the bridge, and after a few seconds where his brain tried to convince him that they really didn't need to go to the dragons much after all, he took his first step onto the wood. It felt like an ordinary solid bridge. If he didn't look down at the giant chasm beneath them, it almost felt safe.

Patton took one wobbly step forward and grabbed at the rope along the sides. It was rough and kind of sticky but he felt better with it in his hands. He inched along the bridge, trying to simultaneously watch his step and ignore the huge drop below his feet. A board cracked ominously beneath him. He yelped and skidded backwards, bumping into Virgil.

"Easy, Pat." Virgil pushed him upright. "Keep going."

"Right! Right." Patton avoided a few holes in the bridge and kept walking. He decided to think about puppies. Puppies and kittens! With their little cute eyes and twitchy ears and _oh gosh he almost fell through that hole_ —

Nope! Nope. Not thinking about that. Everything was fine. He was walking over a bridge and the wind was picking up and whispering along the edges of the rope, and there was a little weight in his stomach that dropped every time he looked down, and he was still only a little ways down the bridge—but it was fine! He'd make it across soon and it would be a-okay.

Patton heard Virgil mutter something about a bribe.

"What was that, kiddo?" Patton asked, but before Virgil could respond a chunk of wood fell away from Patton's foot and plummeted into the canyon. Patton shrieked and stumbled forward, grabbing wildly at the edge of the bridge. He ended up dangling with his leg stuck through the hole, kicking at thin air.

"Pat!" Virgil yelled.

Janus reached him first. He slipped his hands under Patton's arms and pulled Patton to his feet. Patton grabbed at Janus' sleeve and didn't let go until the bridge was solid beneath him once again.

"I told you to watch your step," Janus chided.

"The step was there until it wasn't!" Patton looked at the broken section and shuddered. "Besides, I—I get all queasy when I look down."

"Breathe in and out." Janus glanced over Patton's shoulder. "That goes for you too, Virgil. You look extremely tense."

"Yeah, because we're on a literal _death_ trap—" Virgil sighed and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Deep breaths, Virgil. In and out."

"You're doing great." Janus turned back to the bridge, giving Patton a little wave along. "We're almost halfway done."

Virgil muttered something again. This time Patton only caught the word "love."

"Did you say something?" Patton asked.

"What?" Virgil sounded confused. "No, I didn't."

"Huh." Patton glanced over the side of the bridge. "Right. I must have been hearing things."

The cold weight in his stomach fought with the fire in his chest.

Patton shook it off and kept walking. They crept down the bridge in silence, single-file, wind whistling in Patton's ears and laughing beneath his feet.

"What the—" Janus turned around. "Who keeps talking?"

"No one's talking," Patton said.

"Someone was—" Janus shook his head and turned around. "It was nothing."

It didn't sound like nothing. But when Patton opened his mouth to comment, the cold turned just a bit colder, and he closed his mouth again.

"Rude," Virgil complained to no one at all. "Janus, can't you shut your mouth for two seconds?"

Janus slowed and stopped. "I didn't say anything."

"You—" Virgil frowned. "You did. I heard you."

Janus shook his head.

"It might not have been you," Virgil admitted, "but I heard _someone_."

Janus muttered something under his breath about swords.

Except his mouth hadn't moved.

"Um—" Patton grimaced and tried to shuffle along the bridge again. "I really think we should go."

"Good idea," Janus said, looking a little rattled as well. He turned back around and started leading the way again, kicking at every board before he stepped on them. The wind slipped around Patton's shoulders.

It sounded almost like words.

Patton found himself straining to hear what the wind was saying. He only caught a few snippets of consonants and the turn of vowels, but he had a feeling if he just listened harder, he would know.

Without realizing it, he stopped walking.

"Pat?" Virgil asked behind him.

"Huh?" Patton looked down at his feet. "Oops!" He giggled. "Guess I wasn't paying attention! My bad."

He took a step forward. The wind roared. It was coalescing into sentences now, fragments of words that slammed together to create jumbled paragraphs in a million different voices.

"What _is_ that?" Janus hissed, stopping abruptly on the bridge.

"I don't know," Virgil said, "but I think we should keep walking."

"I second that," Patton said loudly. His voice didn't drown out the little whispers in his ears.

Janus started walking again. He was slower than he had been. Patton wondered if his injuries were acting up, or if this part of the bridge was especially perilous. They were almost in the middle of it by now. It hung low over the yawning chasm below, only a few rotten boards protecting them from the mist curling in the depths.

The whispers grew louder.

Patton felt very cold and very heavy and very damp, like a fog had settled over his skin. But it was still sunny out.

He tried to move faster. He had a feeling something was wrong and he wasn't going to stick around long enough to find out what it was.

But Janus was too slow and Patton fell back into his same steady pace. Listening, despite himself, to the whispers roaring below him.

— _cheated on my Latin exam._

Patton paused. That was a sentence. Not a full one, but he _understood_ it. It was the voice of a younger man with a little scratch in the back of his throat. It was a little confession. He'd been desperate, Patton suddenly knew, and he'd cheated to pass the class. Nobody ever caught him but he always felt like a fraud.

And then it was like the floodgates had opened, because the whispers turned into distinctive voices, hovering around Patton and confessing everything.

_I stole my sister's ring._

_I'm in love with my best friend's boyfriend._

_I lied to my mom._

_I committed tax fraud._

"What the…" Virgil swore, and Patton knew he'd heard it to. "What is that?"

"There are so many of them," Patton whispered. "What are they saying?"

"I'm not going to bother finding out," Janus snapped. "Ignore them. They're probably a trap."

Patton nodded and tried to take a step forward. His foot landed heavily on the bridge. It creaked and swayed. Patton grabbed the side to steady himself, waiting for the swinging to stop.

The voices grew louder.

They dipped and weaved and circled each other, bubbling up from below, yelling from the edge of the cliff and murmuring right at Patton's ear. Some were high, some were low, some were confident and some upset and some quiet. They bled into each other at the ends, one voice ending and another picking up where it left off.

Patton swore he could almost see them. There was a flash of blue on the wall, and there, a streak of orange. A bubble of teal, a splash of crimson, a gust of lavender. The voices and the colors danced around him, dripping into the fog below.

There were more, he knew. He could hear more if he just listened harder—

He'd stopped again. Right in the middle of the bridge.

Nobody chided him this time. Janus and Virgil had stopped, too.

That was—that probably wasn't a good idea, was it?

"Guys," Patton forced out. His lips felt numb. "We should…we should go."

"Hmm?" Janus blinked. "Oh. Yes, definitely."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed, sounding unconvinced. Patton reached out and grabbed Virgil's hoodie, yanking him forward. He lost energy halfway through and let go, depositing Virgil back on the bridge. Virgil barely looked ruffled.

Janus had started to walk another few feet. His pace slowed and he stopped again, turning to the side and frowning.

"What _are_ these?" he asked nobody in particular.

"They're like…confessions," Virgil said as if speaking was the last thing he felt like doing. "Or—"

"Secrets," Patton realized. "The sphinx said that the secrets echo."

"Oh." Janus pushed himself away from the edge of the bridge. "Oh, that's probably not good. We should go."

"Yeah," Patton said, glancing at the chasm nervously. Glancing at it at all was a mistake. A flash of verdant green pinned him to the spot.

He couldn't make out any sentences anymore. Just the voices themselves. Young and old, light and earthy, hesitant and bold. Dozens of people baring their souls, sharing their darkest secrets, tossing their words into the chasm and the chasm spitting them back out.

The wind was cold at his back.

It should be pushing him forward. Instead, he was locked in place.

"Come on, Patton," he muttered to himself, taking a step forward. It was much more of a battle than it should have been.

The voices were only multiplying. Virgil and Janus were walking but they kept pausing, turning their heads. Patton was doing the same. The end of the bridge was so far away. And why'd he want to get there, anyway? This was actually kind of cool. As long as he avoided the holes in the bridge, he could probably stay as long as he wanted.

But they had to get to Logan and Remus.

That thought made Patton's head clear, just a bit. He shook off the voices and kept walking, a leaden feeling in his gut, something twanging and tight in his heart.

So many secrets. So many lies. It was really kind of sad how much people lied to each other.

Janus was two-thirds of the way across the bridge. Patton was a few feet away and Virgil was trailing back. The winds buffeted the bridge and it swayed dangerously. Patton should have felt nervous. Instead, he felt queasy. The cold inside his bones was fighting with the fire in his chest and he was all dizzy. Everything was confusing. His mind was telling him that something was wrong and also that nothing was wrong. He needed to keep walking but he'd much rather sit down and take a break.

"Shut up," he heard from behind him, and he figured it was just another voice. But it wasn't. It was Virgil. Patton glanced back and saw Virgil glaring at nothing, hands in his pockets.

"Shut up," Virgil repeated, throwing the jab at something or someone Patton couldn't see.

"We need to hurry," Janus called, his voice barely carrying over the cacophony of words. "We—"

Either Janus stopped speaking entirely, or Patton lost the rest of it.

Everything was loud and spiraling and heavy. The words covered Patton's feet and hung from his hands and rested around his throat. They pressed cold hands to his chest and leeched the warmth of the weird fire he couldn't get rid of. It sparked dangerously. Patton felt woozy. He reached out to blast the voices away.

But they were _voices_.

And he couldn't _blast_ anything. He didn't know magic! Why'd he think he could?

Blue fire at the edges of his vision, and voices piling in his brain.

Then, through all the ruckus—

_I'm not a good person._

Patton's own voice. Quiet and sad and oddly young, when he heard it out loud. It cracked a bit in the middle. He didn't remember his voice cracking. But it must have.

 _I'm not a good person,_ the wind repeated.

Patton balled his hands and kept walking.

He didn't get very far.

The wind was against him, his whole body was cold and heavy, and his voice kept whispering in his ears.

_Not a good person. Not a good person. Not good. Not good._

_Shut up,_ Patton thought, and he couldn't tell whether he actually said it out loud, too. He seemed to have lost control of his own voice.

 _Not good,_ his own voice mocked.

And he knew it was true. He'd said it himself! He _wasn't_ good. All he did was hurt people. He was selfish and bad and never good enough for his friends. He couldn't help Virgil, he'd die without saving Logan and Remus, and he'd hurt Janus. That wasn't stuff a good person did.

Patton had just been lying to himself the whole time.

_I'm not a good person._

He wasn't. He knew that. So why did it sting so deep inside of him, make tears come to his eyes, and stifle his breathing until he was gasping for air on a rope bridge?

He didn't get enough air. It was filled with voices, and they dripped into his lungs, choking him.

Patton squeezed his eyes shut. That didn't help.

He should be watching his step.

But he wasn't walking. So it didn't matter.

Nothing really mattered as much as he thought it did.

"Come on!" Janus was saying, or maybe it was Janus' voice, disembodied. Maybe Janus had already fallen off the bridge. Maybe Janus had reached the end and left them behind.

Secrets, secrets, secrets, bogging him down and strangling him.

_I'm not a good person._

Too loud, too quiet, too much.

The other side of the bridge was so far away.

Patton pressed his hands to his ears and tried to block out the sound. It didn't work. Everything just got louder and raspier. He was cold and heavy and coming apart at the edges and he might be crying but he couldn't bring himself to care and the fire in his chest told him to _wake up_.

_I'm not a—_

_Wake up!_

A flash of fire.

Patton opened his eyes to see where it was. He saw nothing at all. Just empty fog, a teetering bridge, and Janus bent over with one hand tangled in his hair.

Patton looked back. Virgil was almost curled up on the bridge, chewing on his sleeve, breath coming in short gasps.

_I'm not a good person._

_Wake up, Virgil needs you._

Patton reached forward and touched Virgil's shoulder. Virgil flinched away.

But it was enough for the whole world to flip in on itself. Patton's voice faded from his ears. He almost laughed in relief and grabbed at Virgil, trying to pull him upright.

_I should have died instead of them._

Patton gasped, his hand slipping from Virgil's sleeve. That was Virgil's voice. Deep and gravelly and said all in a rush, like he'd been keeping it in for a while.

Virgil must have heard the voice, because he flinched again, his breath even more strangled.

"Breathe," Patton said above the wind, but he wasn't sure Virgil even knew he was there.

_Should have died._

Virgil pulled his knees to his chest, hyperventilating, a few tears running down his face.

"Janus!" Patton called in a panic.

"What?" Janus yelled back.

"Virgil won't move!" Patton's voice snapped in the middle of the sentence, and in the silence after his words, he heard a little _not a good person._

 _Wake up_ , he told himself, but the world was sinking around him.

Janus stumbled towards Patton, swaying in the wind and white-knuckled on the side of the bridge. "What do we do?"

"He's panicking." Patton waved his hands in the air, feeling like they might fly off into space without him. He was full of energy and yet could barely force himself to talk. "I'd usually count him down, but—I don't know if he can hear me."

"We need to get off the bridge." Janus' face was stony and his eyes were a little red at the edges. He reached out and pulled Virgil upright. Virgil almost yelled and swatted wildly at Janus.

"Hey, come on," Janus said, his voice softer than Patton had ever heard it. "It's fine. I'm safe. We're going to get you across, okay?"

Virgil stared at him, chest trembling, wrists caught in Janus' hands.

"Come on," Janus repeated, pulling Virgil forward. "Just take a few steps. I've got you."

"Jan—" Virgil forced out.

"Don't bother talking, it's a waste of energy." Janus hooked one arm around Virgil's waist and tugged him forward. Patton slipped behind Virgil and placed one hand on the small of his back. "That's good. Keep going."

Virgil leaned over and buried his face in Janus' shoulder. Janus didn't look that annoyed. He just kept walking, trembling in the wind, Patton following them like a little lost lamb.

 _See?_ said a voice, and Patton didn't know if it was from the canyon or just his own head. _They don't need you. They have each other. You just get them both hurt._

Patton shook it off, tears rising to his eyes again, prickly and itchy and the only things he could feel aside from the numbness in his hands.

"You're doing great," Janus said to Virgil. A wind swept over both of them. Virgil shivered. Janus made a stifled little noise and slapped his hand over his mouth.

The wind came rushing up to Patton, and the dark sticky brambles in the back of his mind—the ones he'd always ignored, the ones that were silent if he just tuned them out, the ones that sapped his energy and made him feel kind of iffy for no reason at all, the ones that grew when he wasn't looking until every thought was a pitfall and every word was wrong—something between them and the rest of Patton _broke_.

He sobbed before he could stop himself, clapping a hand to his mouth and trying to shove the sadness back inside him.

"Patton?" Janus turned and listed to the side, catching himself and Virgil as well.

"I'm fine," Patton tried to say. He'd forgotten how to lie, though. And he was sinking underwater—and tears were dripping down his face—and the bridge was going to break any second and there was nothing he could do about it—and his best friend almost died yesterday–and he hurt Janus when Janus didn't deserve it—and his two other best friends might be dead—and his ancestor was a murderous Faerie—and he might never see his moms again—and he'd traded away his dreams—and a lady outside the Woods was mean to him—and his whole town caught on fire—and he lost the little metal animals he liked to play with—and he hadn't slept for days—and his parents died so he'd never grown up in a household where being Fae was normal—and he wanted to like Janus but Janus was going to get them killed—and Patton was never good enough—and Patton had never been _good_ —and he was slowing them down and being ridiculous and it was all his fault—

"Patton!" Janus reached out and grabbed his hand. "Hey!"

Patton gasped for breath. He was crying more than breathing and the bridge swayed under his feet.

"Patton!" Janus repeated. His eyes were glassy with either confusion or tears. Probably the first one. Why would _Janus_ be crying?

Janus squeezed Patton's hand. Patton tried to squeeze back. His face was wet. He tried to wipe it off and failed miserably. The wind was loud in his ears. He was going to fall off the bridge. He was going to _fall_.

"Come on!" Janus pleaded, Virgil tucked into his side, the bridge creaking below them. "Run!"

Patton shook his head. The bridge was dangerous. And he'd much rather stay here.

"You have to!" Janus' voice cracked. "I'm going to run, but I need you to follow me!"

Janus was leaving? Of course Janus was leaving. Everyone left eventually.

"Please, Patton!" Janus tugged on Patton's hand. "Just follow me, okay?"

Patton nodded once. He didn't want Janus to stay on the bridge. It was dangerous out here.

Janus nodded back, flashed him a watery smile, and ran, pulling Virgil after him. The bridge creaked beneath their feet. Wood ripped loose and tumbled into the mist below. But Janus kept moving, running like there was a huge wind buffeting him, running like it was the most important thing he had to do.

Patton stood still and watched him.

Janus reached the other side, practically threw Virgil onto the stone, and turned back to the bridge. Patton winced when their eyes met. He hadn't done what he was supposed to and now Janus was going to be mad.

Janus might have been calling his name. Patton couldn't hear. He shivered. It was cold. He wished he could have some fire to warm himself up.

Then Janus started running towards him.

_What?_

"Leave me alone," Patton tried to say. His lips were heavy. Maybe they were blue. Maybe he was getting hypothermia. That would explain why he felt all sluggish. It was also weird, though—he'd been pretty sure it was summer.

He was so cold. All the voices were really loud but Patton had given up on trying to listen. He wanted to sit down. Maybe he should sit down. Was that safe? Did it matter?

"Patton." Janus was right in front of him. How'd that happen? "Come on. Focus on me. Breathe."

Patton was pretty sure he was already breathing.

"Focus." Janus' face was tight. "We need to run."

"S'cold," Patton said, trying to focus on the little bit of fire still left inside him. "S'too cold, Jan."

"I know. I know." Janus breathed a few times, his shoulders shaking. "You've got to—you've got to stop focusing on _you_ for a second. There's time for that later. I promise. We'll—we'll figure this out. But we have to get off the bridge now, okay? Take my hand. Follow me."

"Watch your step?" Patton managed, giggling a bit between sobs.

"Sure." Janus smiled back. It was faint and disappeared quickly. "Actually, don't bother. Just run."

Patton stumbled forward and listed to the side. Janus caught him. Janus' hands were warm on his chest and the world flipped sideways again just a bit and Patton heard Janus' voice in the mist and he knew he could understand it if he just listened harder—

A bit of panic flashed over Janus' face. "Stop listening. Come on. We need to _go_."

"You go," Patton said, pushing at Janus weakly.

"What—I'm not going without you!" Janus yanked at Patton's hand. "Virgil would kill me if I left you behind!"

Patton tried to pull his hand out of Janus'.

"Please!" Janus yelled. "You need some room to breathe and this bridge is crumbling and will you just—" He tugged Patton's hand. "—come—" Tug. "— _with_ me!" Tug.

"Cold," Patton complained.

"It's warmer on the other side."

But he wanted warmer _now_. He needed some fire.

The bridge swayed. Patton grabbed the side of it. Something roared in his chest, the fire reaching new heights. The wind froze his ears and numbed his nose and weighed down his legs. The voices clamored for attention in the background. The bridge swayed again. Janus winced at something Patton couldn't hear. The fire was hot inside of him but couldn't warm him up and he was going to burn if he wasn't careful—

Something sparked at the edge of his fingers.

Something flared inside his chest.

And Patton found the last of his energy, squeezed his hand around the rope, and _tugged_.

Light blue started leaking from his hands, dripping down the rope, sparking into the air and catching fire.

Patton jumped away, pulling his hand back. The blue didn't leave. It was burning steadily now, running down the bridge and back again, buffeted by the wind but only growing stronger.

"What is _that?"_ Janus yelled.

Patton shrugged. His mind was clearing up, just a bit. "I'm warmer now!"

"You don't say!" Janus backed away from the sides, where blue flames licked the air, poking inquisitively at Janus. "The entire bridge is on _fire!"_

"It is?" Patton looked back. The bridge was crumbling under the flames, the ropes snapping and sinking into the chasm, blue spiraling into the air and glowing against the rock. "Oh. It's on fire."

"We definitely need to run!" Janus grabbed Patton's hand and hauled him along. Patton ran as best he could. The fire was slipping onto the boards behind them, burning through them almost instantly. There was no smoke. But the heat dripped down Patton's back and propelled him forward. His feet slipped on the bridge. He just kept running.

A huge chunk of bridge fell away, only connected to them by a few lone ropes. Janus hesitated and threw himself across the gap. He fell to the other side and turned back.

Patton clenched his fists and jumped as long as he could.

He wasn't going to make it.

Janus grabbed his arms.

Patton swung under the bridge, dangling by his forearms, mist poking at his feet.

"Patton!" Janus screamed.

Patton tried to pull himself up. Janus tugged as well. They made it all the way to Patton's chest—so Patton could grab at the bridge himself—but the wood beneath his arms cracked. He sunk a little lower.

The bridge burned around them. The fire had ignored them so far, but if it got bored, Patton had a feeling it wouldn't mind figuring out whether it could burn them, too.

Janus tugged at Patton.

Patton dug his nails into the wood and pulled himself forward.

Janus muttered something—probably a swear word—and fell to his knees, slipping his hands around Patton's waist and pulling Patton up. Patton tried his best to be limp and not weigh much. Janus still swore several more times.

Janus barely bothered to set Patton down before he had started running again.

Patton followed, the cold burned away by the fire at their backs, the bridge creaking and cracking dangerously, the wind trying to hold him back but seared away by the blue all around them.

The bridge was ending ahead of them.

The fire raged around them. Sparks dotted Patton's skin, blue and terribly hot and just enough to make him remember why he needed to run.

Janus threw them both onto the edge of the cliff. Patton pulled himself away from the bridge.

Behind them, a final rush of fire sent the entire bridge down. It glowed against the canyon walls, casting desperate shadows, before disappearing into the mist.

Patton stared at the empty canyon. He looked back at Janus and Virgil, both breathing heavily. He looked back at the other side of the chasm, the trees clustered and rustling in the wind, the peak of that small mountain above the leaves.

Everything was deafeningly silent.

The three of them were collapsed on the stone. All Patton could hear was Virgil's crying, Janus' harsh breathing, and his own hiccups as he tried to get his sobbing under control.

"Well, that was fun," Janus finally said.

Nobody responded.

"Hey." Janus' voice dipped. "You…are you guys okay?"

Patton laughed a bit and it turned into crying again. "Obviously not."

Virgil tightened until he was curled in a small ball, head tucked into his knees, shoulders heaving with every breath.

"V?" Janus carefully slid up to him. "Breathe."

Virgil made a strangled noise and one hand rose to tangle itself in his hair.

"Hey, no, stop that." Janus carefully pulled Virgil's hand away. "Try to uncurl—no, not yet. Breathe, then. In and out."

"Four," Patton choked out. "In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. You remember that, right?"

Virgil nodded a little. His breathing started to even. Then it shattered and went right back to wild and desperate and far too loud.

"Four," Patton repeated around his own tears. "Seven. Eight. You're—you're doing great, kiddo."

"I—" Virgil's voice was so shaky. It threw Patton back into memories of the first few months, when Virgil would unravel without warning, and Patton would sit down next to him and talk him out of his thoughts. "I can't, Pat."

"Sure you can." Patton scooted over and placed one hand on Virgil's shoulder. His fingers were wet with tears and snot, and several splinters ached at the contact. But Virgil seemed to settle under it.

"Four." Patton rubbed circles on Virgil's shoulder. "Seven. Eight."

Virgil nodded and breathed.

After a few minutes, he'd almost fully uncurled, wiping off his face and pushing back his hair. Patton let Virgil lean into his side and wrapped an arm around Virgil. Virgil hummed and smiled a little bit.

"That sucked," Virgil finally said.

"Tell me about it." Patton nodded. "But…we're across now, right?"

"Yeah, we—" Virgil looked up and frowned. "You're crying."

" _Still?"_ Patton complained. He touched his face and his hands came away wet. Ugh. "I'm not even upset, why am I crying?"

That was a lie, though. He still felt disgusting. He felt itchy and tired and wrung out, and he really wouldn't mind just curling up on the stone and falling asleep.

"There's something wrong," Virgil said hesitantly. "I—tell me, if you want."

Patton didn't know how to explain. He didn't know how to pinpoint exactly what was making him such a mess. Maybe it was one specific thing. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe Patton didn't care either way.

"I—" Patton sniffed and wiped off his face. "I'm upset about my little animal toys. The ones that got took. And—and Janus—I made him the hat, and it got ruined! I know it's just stuff, but—I liked them, and I'm sad about it."

"Oh." Virgil nodded and Patton got the feeling he understood. "Yeah."

"How do you two feel now?" Janus asked, standing up. A few tears clung to his jaw—Patton hadn't seen them fall—and he quickly wiped them off.

"Not great," Patton admitted with a little giggle. "But we should keep walking."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "Only if you don't need more time, though."

"I'd be more worried about you." Patton pulled himself to his feet and scrubbed off the last of the tears. "Ready?"

Virgil nodded, standing up as well.

They were facing a thicket of thorns, rising up and almost covering the sky. A narrow path wound between them, the branches arching around them. Each one was almost as thick as Patton's arm and they sprawled in each direction. Patton only caught a glimpse of Dragon Mountain through the thicket but it was enough to make him shiver.

"Come on," Janus finally said, stepping forward into the gloom. Virgil followed and Patton held up the rear. The dirt was packed and hard beneath his feet, almost indistinguishable from the stone he'd been lying on.

It was quiet for a very long time.

Patton had things he wanted to say and things he didn't, but he couldn't find the words for either.

"What happened?" Virgil asked after the chasm had long disappeared behind them. "I—I didn't really notice after a bit."

Janus didn't turn around. So Patton figured it was him that had to answer.

"You were upset," Patton said. "All of us were. I tried to help, but the bridge was unstable, so Janus grabbed you and helped you across."

Virgil looked at Janus, who kept walking, shoulders tight.

"Then—" Patton swallowed. "I had trouble getting across, the bridge caught on fire, and Janus and I ran to the other side."

"What—" Virgil frowned. "The bridge caught on _fire_."

"Yep!" Patton giggled sheepishly. "Um, it was probably part of the spell. Maybe it does that every time! And the bridge gets remade afterwards."

Janus hissed quietly.

"What is it?" Patton asked.

"You _seriously_ tried to say the bridge just caught on fire of its own _accord_."

"Yes?" Patton frowned. "I dunno why—who knows with the Woods."

"That's not—" Janus whirled on Patton. He was glaring. "Stop lying."

"Lying?" Patton asked. "I'm not lying!"

"Yes, you are." Janus' lip curled. " _You_ set the bridge on fire."

Patton blinked a few times.

"I did what?" he finally asked.

"Set the bridge on fire." Janus waved a hand. "I _saw_ you, you can't deny it!"

"What—" Virgil looked between Janus and Patton, eyes widening. "Pat—"

"I didn't!" Patton protested. He didn't know where his vehemence was coming from. He just knew it couldn't be his fault. It _couldn't_ be. If it was—Patton didn't want to think about what that meant. "It just…I didn't have a match or anything, how could I have—"

"You're an idiot," Janus said.

Patton flinched. "Jan, I'm sorry, I really don't—I don't know what you're talking about."

"You used magic!" Janus snapped.

Patton's mouth fell open, but no words came out.

"You used magic," Janus repeated. "And I want an explanation."

"I didn't—I couldn't have—" Patton shook his head desperately. "I've never used magic! I don't have any!"

"The bridge that exploded in a burst of blue fire begs to differ." Janus' fists balled. "Don't tell me you've always known about this. Don't tell me you could have blasted fire at any time and gotten us out of situations. Don't tell me you _lied_."

"I didn't lie!" Patton's eyes widened. "I'm serious, Jan, I've never even come close to using magic before!"

"Yes, I'll believe you just like that."

"Ask me, then!" Patton pleaded. "Ask me and I swear I'll say I don't! I don't know what happened, Jan, I promise!"

Janus stared at him for a long time.

"I believe you," he finally said, "only because you're not exactly smart enough to pull off that kind of con."

Okay, that stung, but Patton managed not to flinch this time.

"Still, regardless." Janus folded his arms. "We really need to do something about this."

"Do something about what?" Virgil piped up, glowering. "Pat can use magic. Cool! That's a good thing. It increases our chances of surviving this disaster mission."

"Patton can use magic," Janus fired back. " _Fae_ magic. And he has our _names_. First fire, what's next—cursing us when we disagree with him?"

"Hey!" Patton said. "I would never do that!"

"Tell me," Janus said, "if you didn't light the bridge on fire on purpose—"

"—I didn't!"

"—then I'd like to know why you couldn't cast _other_ spells by accident." Janus looked Patton dead in the eyes. "Magic you can't control means we're all at risk."

"Whoa, okay." Virgil stepped between them, hands raised. "I think we're all getting a little bit off-track here. We're talking about one fiery bridge, not the razing of civilizations."

Janus rolled his eyes. "Slippery slope."

"And this is Patton!" Virgil almost laughed. "I'd trust him with magic more than anyone else I know."

"Yet we don't know anything about this magic." Janus glanced at Patton. "And neither does he. It's mysterious powers that happened to show up and almost got us killed, so forgive me for being a little _on edge_."

"It wouldn't have killed us," Patton said. He didn't know why he knew, but he did. "It wasn't trying to hurt us, and it wouldn't have. I wouldn't let it."

Janus stared at Patton incredulously. "You just said you didn't light the fire on purpose. Now you're psychoanalyzing the spell you apparently don't understand."

"Look, I just—" Patton shook his head. "I don't know, okay? I just—I just—I don't have anything to tell you. I don't know what answers you want."

"I want—" Janus sighed. "I _want_ to know that you won't accidentally light _us_ on fire, too. But I suppose that's too much to ask for."

Patton stared at his feet, trying very hard not to cry again.

"We can talk about this later," Virgil said, coming to the rescue. "Let's keep moving."

Janus sighed in annoyance and swept back around, stalking down the path. Virgil followed, occasionally giving Patton sympathetic looks. Patton trailed them, hugging his chest, feeling very small indeed.

It _couldn't_ have been magic. He couldn't _do_ magic. He'd only gotten a few limitations from his Fae blood. Why wouldn't he have learned this sooner?

Patton felt the fire searing his chest, begging to be let loose, and he remembered the way the world had spun around him when he sat in the throne. The blue fire that danced along his arm when he made the deal.

He shivered and hugged himself tighter.

He didn't want magic. He didn't want Janus to hate him, to be scared. He just wanted everything to be normal.

He was out of the Woods. He was walking among the thistles, so close to their destination, safe from Fae and snakes and gryphons and spiders and magic.

But he still felt unsafe. He still felt like crying. And he still felt unstable and ready to fall apart or shatter or catch fire.

Patton did his best to press down the itchy feelings in his chest. He tried to ball up the fire inside him and shove it beneath the floorboards.

No more magic.

It scared Janus, and it scared Patton.

No more magic, _ever_.

He broke that promise in about five hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that went well


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: arguing

It was evening. Janus was curled up and asleep after several hours of snapping at Patton every time Patton talked and sighing every time Virgil did. Virgil was sitting on his own blanket, glaring at nothing, hands balled into fists. He'd been in a bad mood all afternoon. Walking together had not been fun. Patton had done his best to cheer everyone up, but Janus wasn't in a mood to listen to anything Patton had to say. Patton didn't know if it was the sudden magic or what had happened on the bridge.

"I didn't hear anything," Patton had tried to say, feeling like it needed to be said. "If you're worried about that."

"I'm _not_." Janus bared his teeth. "What do I care? _I_ don't have anything to hide."

Patton got the hint after that. He retreated from conversation and Virgil glared at Janus and Janus strode ahead through the thorns.

Now it was evening. Patton decided he wanted to take a little walk and try to get away from the ugly resentment he felt around Virgil and Janus. He felt a little more comfortable walking away from them since they were no longer in the Woods, but he still told Virgil where he was going, just in case.

He walked for a minute or so and sat down cross-legged on the path. He reached out and poked one of the thorns. A little dot of blood rose on his finger and dripped onto the dirt.

It was a dark night. The clouds covered the moon and stars. Patton ran his hands over the cool dirt and imagined little plants springing from his fingertips.

This place was so different from the Woods. The Iron Woods were dangerous and twisted and misleading, but they were so alive, vibrating and humming and hissing with power. Patton hadn't realized how much that affected him until it was gone. Now he felt vaguely adrift, everything just a little too silent and still, the lack of unease making him uneasy.

He tried to push his hand into the dirt. It only made a few little divots before hitting solid rock.

They were only a day or two from the Mountain.

That's what Janus said, anyway. Janus was bad at estimating walking distance. He never usually walked.

Patton thought back to the bridge, the stifling desperation he'd felt, the way Janus had pleaded with him to keep moving. The fire that had erupted out of him without his permission, burning its way through the ropes, glowing in the air like nothing he'd ever seen.

Patton reached out and snapped a small branch off. It had two thorns and twisted around his hand. Patton half-expected it to move or attack him or bind him to the earth. It didn't. It was just a regular plant.

Patton closed his eyes, breathed out, and tugged.

When he opened his eyes, the little bit of branch was still intact, staring at him with what Patton felt was judgment.

"Hey," Patton told the branch, "I don't know how it works, either."

The branch did not respond. Thank goodness.

Patton didn't want to set anything on fire that could lead to a really big fire. So he snapped another branch off and held that one up. Then he realized it could burn his hand. He set it on the dirt and stared at it intently.

He tried to reach for the fire inside of him. It danced through his fingers and sunk deeper.

He felt very stupid, staring at a branch and hoping for it to catch fire.

He felt like he shouldn't be doing this.

He shouldn't be. He should be leaving magic alone. That was stuff nobody messed with. Maybe if he was lucky, the thing with the bridge was a fluke.

Patton remembered how he'd felt in the moment—completely in control, burning from the inside out, every bit of his skin sparking and exploding.

Scary, when he imagined it now.

But it hadn't felt scary at the time. It just felt right. Like remembering the lyrics to a song he'd forgotten.

Patton held his hand over the branch and focused hard. He closed one eye and held his breath and tried to think of any magic words he knew. All he could think of was 'Alakazam.'

Nothing caught fire.

"Hey, Pat."

Patton squeaked and jumped, trying to kick the little branch off the path.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Calm down. I'm not gonna fire you. Scoot over."

Patton did. Virgil sat next to him, kicking his legs out.

"Any luck?" Virgil asked.

"No," Patton admitted. "I—I know I promised I wouldn't try. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I get it." Virgil smirked. "If I had cool powers, I'd want to try them out, too. You're curious—it's natural."

"It's dangerous," Patton protested.

"It's more dangerous if you don't understand them than if you practice." Virgil grabbed Patton's hand and held it out over the branch. "Try again?"

Patton shook his head. "I—I should go to sleep."

Virgil looked annoyed. "Don't let Janus get to you! He's full of it."

"He's _right_." Patton curled his knees to his chest, staring morosely at the branch. "This is—this is messy stuff. This is _Fae_ stuff. I don't know what I'm doing, I could burn this whole forest down, I could—"

"First of all, I don't think you're powerful enough for _that_." Virgil bumped Patton's shoulder. "And like I said, practice makes perfect. Ignoring and repressing this stuff'll just make it explode."

"Janus doesn't like it."

"Like I said, he's full of it." Virgil scoffed. "Since when have you listened to _Janus_ —he's a jerk."

"He's scared," Patton said quietly.

"Yeah." Virgil glanced down the path. "Fair. But—and I know I'm being a hypocrite here—that doesn't excuse being mean."

" _I'm_ scared." Patton stared at his hands. "I don't know how I did it, I'm not supposed to know it, I've always been able to forget that I'm part Fae but now it's all smacking me in the face and maybe now I'll end up killing children or something—"

"Okay, jeez, calm down!" Virgil's eyes widened. "You're not gonna kill _children_. This is magic, not a personality transplant."

"I know. I know." Patton curled into himself a little more. "In—in the stories, magic's evil. It corrupts people. You can't trust it."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "The stories also say that all dragons are evil and will stop at nothing to destroy humanity. And we've got at least one guy proving that wrong."

Patton laughed a little. "You think he's evil, though."

"He's not." Virgil huffed. "He's a royal pain, but he's not evil. And he seems to tolerate humanity alright."

"I knew you liked him," Patton said.

"I don't." Virgil bit his lip. "Especially when he's like this. When he's being mean to you. It's—it's the same stuff people always say, and I'm sick of it."

"He's—" Patton waved a hand. "Look. I get it. He's scared. He's worried we'll all get put in danger or something. And I don't blame him! He's not mad 'cause I'm a Fae—he knew that—he's just worried for all of us."

"He doesn't trust you." Virgil's voice was tight. "He doesn't trust that you could handle something like this. He thinks you'll let your magic go off willy-nilly."

Patton laughed a little. "In fairness, I don't really know how it works, and it totally could—"

"It could. Fine." Virgil shrugged. "Still not an excuse to be rude."

"He'll calm down," Patton said unconvincingly. "I know he will."

"Yeah, maybe. And maybe not. And either way, if he's being mean _now_ , that's a problem."

Patton sighed. "I wish I didn't have magic."

"I hear you." Virgil smiled a little. "Think of it this way. Yeah, maybe this could be a chance to hurt people. But it could also _help_ people. It practically saved you guys on the bridge, right? You're a powerhouse, Pat. I know you've never been a fighter, but this could really help in the future. I know you're trying to talk down the dragons, and that's great and all, but—" Virgil sighed. "It might be a good idea to have a backup plan."

"I don't like fighting," Patton said automatically.

And the last time he'd fought with fire, he'd burned Janus.

"I know." Virgil paused. "Then…you can light campfires for us!"

Patton giggled. "That's what you've got?"

"Hey, it's useful. I'm terrible with flint and magnesium." Virgil bumped Patton's shoulder again. "I'm just saying, look on the bright side. Or just remember that there _is_ a bright side. Can't believe _I'm_ the one telling you to be optimistic, but yeah."

"I…thanks." Patton swallowed. "Virgil?"

"Yeah, Pat?"

"Why—" Patton looked at his feet. "Why aren't you scared?"

Virgil was quiet.

"You—you don't like dragons." Patton swallowed again, trying to press down the lump in his throat. "And you don't like magical stuff in general. And I'm a danger to all of us, and Janus doesn't like me, and you should—"

"I should what, leave you behind in the thorns?" Virgil's teasing tone fell away. "You're serious."

Patton pointedly didn't look at Virgil.

"You're serious— _Pat_." A hand fell on Patton's shoulder. "Pat, look at me."

Patton reluctantly looked up. Virgil's face was open and filled with so much affection and worry, Patton's heart clenched.

"I'm not scared because you're _you_ ," Virgil said. "I'm not scared because you're _Patton_. Magic powers or not, you're my brothe—best friend. You'd never use this stuff to be cruel, you'd leave a situation if you felt like you might be a danger, and you're a really fast learner. You're not stupid, no matter what Janus says, and you can be trusted with this. I trust you." Virgil smiled. "I will always trust you, Patton."

Patton fought for words.

He decided against them entirely. He leaned forward and flung his arms around Virgil in a hug.

"Hey," Virgil said fondly, hugging Patton back. "It's gonna be alright."

"Yeah." Patton choked on the word. "Yeah, it is. It is."

"Yeah."

They stayed there for a long time, Patton breathing in the scent of Virgil's hoodie, Virgil cupping the back of his head.

"You should sleep," Virgil said, pulling Patton to his feet. "That branch can wait. We'll practice more tomorrow, okay?"

"Janus won't like it," Patton said, but found he didn't really care.

"Janus can suck it." Virgil's eyes were alight with mischief. "And hey, if you get good enough, you can light his clothes on fire."

"Kiddo!" Patton protested. "You said I wouldn't be cruel!"

"It would be a kindness." Virgil rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding. Mostly."

"That's enough out of you," Patton teased, leading Virgil down the path.

Janus was awake when they reached the blankets. He stared at them with an unreadable expression.

"Where have you been?" he asked Virgil.

"We went for a walk." Virgil folded his arms. "What, is that illegal now?"

"No." Janus huffed. "I was concerned Patton had burned down the forest. Apparently we've been spared that cruel fate."

"Come on," Virgil complained, his lip curling. "Give it a rest, will you?"

"Give what a rest?"

"I can't believe you." Virgil stomped over to his blanket and sat down on it. "Hope Pat really does learn how to control his magic so he can blast you to bits."

"Yes, that definitely reassures me." Janus looked Patton up and down. "You've been practicing, haven't you."

"What—" Patton fought for a lie, but it was way too late. "How'd you know?"

"I didn't." Janus raised an eyebrow. "I do now, though."

"Oh." Patton felt very much like swearing. "Gotcha."

"I'm curious to know how it went," Janus said, his voice lilting.

"Nothing happened," Patton said.

"Right."

"Nothing did!" Patton waved at Virgil. "He'll tell you—I couldn't get it to work again."

"Hmm." Janus looked Patton up and down again. "Whatever you say."

"Look, I'm not lying." Patton crossed his arms. "I don't lie. You know that."

Janus gave Patton a skeptical look. "Sure."

"Why are you being like—" Patton reined himself in before he could say something he'd regret. "Jan. I'm…I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"You don't know that! What if it—"

"Janus, can you stop?" Patton bit his lip. "Please?"

Janus sighed and flopped down on his blanket. "You know what? I don't care. Have fun killing all of us. I'm going to bed."

Patton looked at Virgil, who seemed about three seconds from strangling Janus with his bare hands.

"He's right," Patton said softly. "We should all get some sleep, okay?"

"Fine," Virgil ground out, curling up on the ground and shooting Janus dirty looks. Janus was already asleep. Or he was pretending to be.

Patton straightened his own blanket and lay down on it, staring up at the sky and listening to the fire sparking in his chest.

 _Don't hurt them,_ he tried to tell it. _Please. Just—just go away, okay? Go away and leave no trace behind._

The fire jumped up again. Already, Patton had forgotten what it was like without there.

Maybe it had always been there.

Maybe he'd just gotten good at ignoring it.

Patton turned on his side and closed his eyes. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

Patton woke up in the middle of the night. He was used to that. But usually, he woke up because of nightmares. He wasn't sure why he'd woken up this time. Something just told him it would be a good idea to be awake, and now he was awake, staring at his hand on the dirt and waiting for something to happen.

"Snake," Virgil said. "Are you awake?"

"No, I'm asleep," Janus said. "I can't hear a word you're saying."

Virgil sighed loudly. "Cut the crap. I need to talk to you."

Janus groaned. "Can't it wait? It's night."

"You're awake, aren't you?"

"Only thanks to you."

"You're welcome." Virgil huffed. "We gotta talk. You know that."

"I know nothing of the sort." Janus' voice was clipped. "Unless you're referring to your behavior this afternoon."

" _My_ behavior?" Virgil repeated incredulously.

"You were being snippy."

"I was mad at you."

"I gathered."

"I'm always mad at you," Virgil admitted.

"I've also gathered that."

"But…" Virgil sighed. "Yeah. We need to talk."

"What is this about?" Janus asked, sounding like he'd prefer not to know the answer and would rather just fall back asleep. "Can we do it at some time that's not _should-not-be-awake_ o'clock?"

"You're nocturnal, suck it up." Virgil paused. "I need to talk to you about Patton."

Patton froze, any plans of interrupting their conversation dying on his lips. He closed his eyes and tried to tune them out. That barely lasted a second. Curiosity overruled caution and he shifted closer to Virgil and Janus, listening harder.

"What about Patton?" Janus asked, although his voice was suddenly much tenser.

"How you're treating him." Virgil sucked in a breath. "Dude, you're being a _jerk_."

"That isn't exactly new information." Janus chuckled a bit. "You know I don't like him."

"Well, _he_ likes _you_ ," Virgil fired back. "I'd be totally fine if you guys were just arguing a lot. 'Cause yeah, understandable. But you're just sniping at him and he isn't fighting back! You're using him as a punching bag. It's painful to watch."

"Tell him to fight back, then."

"He's not going to." Virgil clicked his tongue. "He's just not gonna, and we both know it. He's nice, and he likes you. I'm telling _you_ that you need to stop being so mean to him."

Janus was silent.

"It hurts him," Virgil said. "I can tell. He's good at hiding it, but he doesn't like it when you call him stupid, or when you ignore him. You've gotten a bit better. Which is good! Just—you haven't gotten all-the-way better, and after the emotionally-manipulative giant hole, you almost completely fell back to square one. And yeah, vulnerability is hard, but Patton doesn't deserve to be pushed aside whenever you're in a bad mood. Or just because he has magic now."

"Patton hasn't complained," Janus said defensively.

"First of all, he has, and secondly he _won't_ , because he's just like that." Virgil's voice took on a fond edge. "He won't call you out on it—he'll just lie down and take it, the stupid guy. But _I'm_ calling you out."

"I don't know what you want me to do about it," Janus said.

"Stop?"

"I don't even know what the _problem_ is." Janus was starting to sound frustrated. "I'm nice to him! I've saved his life a million times!"

"Yeah, but that's not where the bar is, sorry." Virgil didn't sound sorry. "If the only time you show any compassion is when it's life-or-death, that's not cool."

"This is ridiculous," Janus muttered. "You're just attacking me because you don't like me."

"I don't like you," Virgil agreed, "but I have a point, and you know it."

"Why do you care so much?"

"Why don't _you?"_

"I—" Janus growled. "I don't see why this matters. We're almost to the Mountain. I will never see you again."

"It's hurting Patton right now." Virgil's voice was quiet. "So it matters."

"What do you expect me to do?" Janus burst out. "Put flowers in his hair and make friends with him? In case you forgot, I'm a _dragon_. You've made it very clear you don't want me around."

"You're insufferable," Virgil groaned. "This isn't about _me_ , idiot."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"It's not!" Virgil groaned again. "It's about Patton. I'm gonna freaking kick your butt if you're mean to him, I swear."

"I'm trying," Janus insisted. "I've been trying for days to be more polite—"

"Good, try harder!" Virgil said. "You don't get a free pass for effort, I want to actually see _results_."

"There _are_ results, and you're ignoring them!" Janus made a strangled hissing noise. "I told you, this is all because you don't like me—"

"This is about _Patton!"_

"Why is _Patton_ so special, then?" Janus yelled. "Why do you care what I say to Patton? Why are you letting me near him? You should be—if I'm such a jerk, you should _expect_ me to be mean. Why are you so _angry_ at me?"

"I'm not angry!" Virgil snapped.

"Could've fooled me!"

"Shut up!" Virgil yelled. "Just for once, please shut up and _listen!"_

Janus must have been shocked into silence.

"Look, I—" Virgil sighed, the anger going out of his voice. "Patton, he's—I have never met a kinder person in my entire life."

Something twanged in Patton's chest and he found himself smiling, just a bit.

"He's my best friend." A smile was audible in Virgil's voice. "He's always been there for me. When—" Virgil's voice dipped. "When I lost my family, Patton convinced his parents to take me in. He was so humble about it, too. Said anyone would have done it. But anyone _wouldn't_ have." Virgil laughed a little. "I've got a little bit of my hair shaved. I told Patton it's to help remember what happened—I got burned there, right above the neck. But…it's also—" Virgil paused. "It was like a week after. I was staying in Patton's house. I hadn't said a word, hadn't changed clothes, had barely eaten. I still smelled like smoke. My hair was all burnt in the back. Patton—he said it was adorable." Virgil laughed again. "I have no idea why that stuck with me. He just—he just looked at me, the complete mess that I was, and thought I was adorable. Thought I was—worth helping. That's what Patton does. He sees the best in people, even when they have a hard time seeing it themselves."

Patton pressed a hand to his mouth. He didn't know whether he was stopping a happy squeal or a few tears.

"I would do anything for him," Virgil said simply. "He's—he's like a brother to me. And my last brother was killed, so I don't say that lightly."

Patton actually did make a little noise this time. Fortunately, no one heard.

"I don't like you," Virgil continued. "I admit that. Maybe I never will. But _Patton_ does. And Patton…"

Janus shifted slightly. Patton heard his shirt rustle against his back.

"Do you realize how lucky you are?" Virgil asked, laughing. "Patton Foster wants to be your friend. That's not something that's gonna happen again. There aren't any other Pattons in the world."

Patton was definitely holding back tears now.

"So yeah." Virgil sighed. "I get mad when I see you brushing him off. Because what he's giving you is worth the world and you're treating it like it's _nothing_." There was a long moment of silence that nobody broke. "Patton…he doesn't give up on people easily. But if you push him away, he _will_ stop trying. And you'll regret not letting him in while you could."

The wind slipped between the thorns and rustled Patton's blanket.

"You hate me," Janus finally said, voice hesitant. "Why would you want me around your brother?"

"Good question," Virgil said wryly, but his voice softened. "Because you make Patton happy. For whatever reason. And—that's all I want him to be, Janus."

Janus made a soft little "Oh." And Patton's heart broke just a bit more.

"I…I suppose that makes sense," Janus said. "You're very protective of him. It's admirable."

"Yeah." Virgil paused. "Um—don't tell him about the brother thing, okay? It's embarrassing, and—he always just calls me his best friend. We're not really family that way."

"Of course," Janus said, his tone unreadable. "Whatever you say."

"Great." Virgil clicked his tongue. "Um, hope you took some of that to heart, or I'm shoving you into the thorns, got it?"

"Got it." Janus paused. "I do see what you mean, in a way. Patton's definitely…unique. I haven't met many humans in my life, but I get the feeling that Patton is a standout nonetheless."

"Definitely," Virgil agreed. "Unless that's a layered insult, in which case you're a jerk."

"It's not!" Janus said. "He's—he's funny. He's always excited, and he has boundless enthusiasm, and he's trusting to a fault, and he's always open to talk, and—"

"Huh," Virgil said, a smile creeping into his voice. "Glad we're on the same page, Janus."

"We're on no such page," Janus teased. "I read far faster than you, I'm sure."

"Whatever lets you sleep at night." Virgil snorted. "I'm just saying, that was—you have a lot to say about Patton, huh?"

"You're the one who gave a long dramatic speech about your love for him."

"Yeah, well, I've known him for years." Virgil paused. "He must have made a real impression on you."

"Shut up," Janus muttered.

"All I'm saying is—"

"I don't care what you're saying."

"—if you said that to Patton instead of 'shut up, you idiot,' things might go a little better."

"I'm going to sleep now."

"You can ignore me, but you can't ignore the truth."

" _Good night_ , V."

"Patton's favorite flowers are chrysanthemums."

"Good. _Night_."

Virgil laughed. "Fine. I'll stop. Just—yeah. Try saying more of that." He was quiet for a little while. "You really like him, Janus. Don't you?"

Janus gave a long-suffering sigh. "I find his company not terrible. Are we done?"

"You like him," Virgil translated. "Yeah, I figured. You've got a heart under all those scales after all."

"I would like to be done."

"Now just try and be a little more emotionally honest—"

"Please be done."

"—and you'll be able to be happy friends or whatever you end up doing." Virgil smirked. "Maybe not friends, if I'm hearing this correctly."

Janus hissed. "I will throw you off a cliff."

"I'd like to see you try." Virgil was quiet for another long time. "Janus…I think I do like you. Just a bit. Under certain circumstances."

"Wow, don't strain yourself," Janus snarked back. "You should do exercises before you try so hard not to care."

"You're a jerk," Virgil said. "But I think I get what Patton was saying. You're a lot more than that when you let yourself be. And…and you're kind of fun to argue with. You'll betray us, of course, and you're evil and a dragon and I shouldn't trust you at all—"

"And here I thought we were bonding," Janus griped.

"—but I do. Kind of. Sort of." Virgil huffed. "So…thank you. For saving us all those times, and for having our backs. Even if it's because you want to kill us later."

"You're…" Janus didn't seem to know how to respond. "You're welcome?"

"Great." Virgil yawned. "Now it's sleep time. Too many emotions for the middle of the night."

"I thought you'd never say that," Janus said, his voice already dropping off and replaced with quiet breathing. Virgil fell silent, too. And Patton closed his own eyes, mind whirring.

"Thank you too," Janus said into the night, "I suppose."

"You're welcome," Virgil muttered. "Snake."

Janus laughed a bit and his laughter turned into light snores. Virgil began to snore as well, and Patton was left the only one awake, running through that conversation over and over again.

He was a little annoyed that Virgil had confronted Janus about that stuff without asking. But that was overshadowed by everything else. Virgil's speech and kind words. Janus' little compliments. The way they'd finally seemed to be getting along, their snark and teasing remarks almost friendly, not reminders of a deeper hatred.

Janus liked him too. Janus was okay with being his friend. He hadn't said it out loud, but Patton could tell.

And that made Patton smile widely in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> virgil go >:( and janus go >:0 and patton go :) and that's the fic


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: food mention, anxiety, very brief reference to cannibalism in a joking fashion, self-esteem issues and guilt

"I'm hungry," Virgil said for the seventh time.

"I know," Patton said for the seventh time.

"Well, don't eat me, eat Patton," Janus said for the seventh time. And Patton did a little combination of a wince and a giggle for the seventh time.

There really wasn't a point to the conversation. All it did was make them laugh a bit and remind them that they didn't have any food. Since their last food had turned to spiders, of course. Janus complained the least. He was a dragon and didn't need food as much, and also he wouldn't be caught dead complaining. Patton tried not to complain too much either, but it was hard when his stomach felt like it was trying to devour itself.

Maybe he could eat a stick. That sounded like a bad idea, but he was getting hungry enough to try it. It was the middle of the morning, though—he should wait for lunchtime and _then_ try to gnaw on a stick. Yeah, that made sense.

"I'm hungry," Virgil said, bringing the total to eight.

"I know," Patton said.

But Janus missed his cue. Instead, he said "Maybe there are some berries around."

"Really?" Virgil looked ridiculously excited. "Like non-poisonous, edible ones?"

"They're not poisonous to dragons, I don't think." Janus shrugged. "I couldn't say for humans."

"Good enough for me." Virgil looked around. "Where can we find some?"

"I said 'maybe,' not 'here's a map to every berry farm I know.'" Janus walked to the edge of the path and peered through the thickets. "It's rather late in the season for them, but we might find a few under the bushes."

"Which bushes?" Patton asked.

Janus pointed through a particularly dense patch of thorns. "There aren't many near the path."

"Wait." Virgil frowned. "We're going off the path? Heck no."

"We're not in the Woods anymore, it's fine." Janus pushed aside a few branches. "The only great danger is scratching yourself on the sticks."

"Still a danger," Patton said, eyeing the thorns the size of his thumb.

"Relax." Janus poked the branch, it poked back, and he swore loudly and cradled his hand. "Okay, I see your point."

"I'm torn." Virgil weighed his hands. "Safety or food? Safety or food?"

"As I said, that isn't the question." Janus glanced up at the sky. "We might even be safer in the thicket—it's harder for anyone to see us."

Patton squeaked. "What?"

"The flyovers," Janus explained. "There's usually a dragon on guard every day to watch for intruders. They give it to whoever pissed the others off—it's the worst job you can get."

"There are flyovers?" Virgil backed towards the thickets. "And why didn't you tell us about this?"

"I didn't want you to panic."

"Nice job, you failed!" Virgil stared up at the sky. "Tell me they won't see us, Jan."

"Hopefully they won't."

"What do you mean, _hopefully?"_ Virgil was starting to hyperventilate. "What happens if they _do?"_

"Calm down," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "They won't kill us. Unless it's Mara, or maybe Anton. Or Estella. Or Karis if they're in a bad mood."

"What?" Virgil yelled loud enough to shake the thickets.

"I don't see what the problem is," Patton said, raising a hand. "We're going to talk to the dragons! Why are we trying to hide from them?"

Both Janus and Virgil gave Patton a Look like he was a complete idiot.

"Because _death_ ," Virgil said.

"There won't be death! Janus is exaggerating." Patton turned to Janus. "Right?"

Janus winced slightly.

"You're kidding." Patton's eyes widened. "Why would they do that? They know you!"

"Yes, unfortunately." Janus hissed between his teeth. "It's not me I'm worried about."

"You're worried about us?" Patton smiled. "You do care!"

"Pat, not the time." Virgil held up a hand. "So. Snake. Why exactly would they kill us?"

"Most of them wouldn't," Janus said. "But, um, a few of them may—" He held up his hand to his mouth and coughed forcefully. The cough sounded kind of like " _think-that-humans-are-weak-and-only-deserve-to-be-crushed."_

"What?" Virgil asked.

"What?" Janus asked.

"Okay!" Patton gave his best Patton-ted smile. "This is getting, um, a little concerning, but things are still fine! We'll just stay out of the way, find the Mountain, and rescue Logan and Remus."

"That raises the question," Janus said, frowning. "What exactly _is_ your plan?"

"Um—" Patton blinked a few times. "Rescue them."

"I mean beyond that. I'm asking for steps." Janus waited a few seconds. Nobody responded. "Such as, how are you intending to enter the Mountain without being spotted? Will you try to fight your way out or use diplomacy? What is your strategy for either? How will you get back home afterwards?"

"I—" Virgil looked sheepish. "Um, we—"

"That—" Patton's mouth dropped open. "We have to get home afterwards. Oh my gosh. I forgot we had to do that."

"Go through the Woods _again?"_ Virgil shook his head."Nuh-uh. I've already been turned into a tree once, and that was one time too many."

"Are you serious?" Janus asked, looking about to either laugh or scream. "You didn't think this through at all, did you? You're both such idio—you both rushed into this without thinking. Which is fine. It just means we'll have to do the planning now instead."

"We don't need much planning," Patton said, trying to cover up the fact that he hadn't done any planning during this whole trip. "We just ask the dragons for Logan and Remus."

"You ask them," Janus repeated, looking like he'd smelled something rotten. "Do tell me what happens if they refuse."

"Um—" Patton smiled sheepishly. "We ask more nicely?"

"We fight our way out," Virgil said, squaring his shoulders. "With, um, Patton's magic he doesn't know how to use and one empty crossbow."

"I can't believe this." Janus rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Do you know, V, how many dragons there are in that Mountain?"

"Huh?" Virgil shrugged. "One or two dozen, right?"

Janus gave Virgil a pained look. "Fifty-three."

"Fifty—" Virgil swore loudly for about ten seconds straight. "We're doomed."

"Now, kiddo, be optimistic! And watch your language!" Patton glanced at the Mountain poking up between distant thorns. "It'll be fine. It won't come to violence. They'll hear what we have to say and we'll get Logan and Remus back."

"Dare I ask," Janus said, looking like he was watching a locomotive crash in slow motion, "if you've planned what you're going to say."

"Hi," Patton said, "please give us our friends back, thank you, have a nice day?"

Janus stared at Patton, blinking a few times, a look of pure regret on his face. "I shouldn't have asked."

"We'll wing it." Virgil shrugged. "Improv. It's gotten us this far, right?"

"Yes, and we've been exceedingly lucky, probably thanks to Patton's ancestry." It was a disparaging remark, but oddly not mean. At least, Patton didn't find it mean. Janus just sounded frustrated. "Luck runs out. And the best place to test your luck is _definitely_ the lair of several dozen _dragons_."

"You won't even be part of this," Patton pointed out. "You'll be—"

He stopped talking. What _was_ Janus going to do?

"Jan?" Patton asked. "What's _your_ plan?"

Janus looked caught off guard for a second. He quickly steadied himself. "Irrelevant."

"Disagree." Virgil stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "What're you gonna do? Pat's got me curious."

"Nothing." Janus waved a hand at them. "I might have considered helping you, but from the sound of your plan, I'll be better off hiding and waiting for the horror show to be over."

"Jan!" Patton protested.

"What?" Janus huffed. "Don't say you expected me to actually _help_ you."

"Yeah, well, you helped us get here," Virgil pointed out, "so it's not an out-of-nowhere assumption."

"I agreed to take you to the Mountain." Janus waved his hands at the Mountain itself. "What you do afterwards isn't my concern."

"Please?" Patton asked, clasping his hand. "Jan, we'll need you there!"

"Why." Janus raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't planning to fight."

"We're not," Patton said.

"Only if we have to," Virgil said at the same time.

Janus looked between them, his other eyebrow raising.

"Look," Patton said, "I'm just saying we could use your help."

"And I'm 'just saying' I never agreed to help you storm the castle. I'm your escort, not your best friend." Janus huffed. "Do whatever you want, but I'm going to stay out of the way and hopefully never see you two again."

For some reason, that made Patton's heart clench. "Right. You'll…you'll probably…we'll leave, won't we?"

Janus nodded. "I have no idea how you'll manage to get back through the Woods, though."

"Maybe someone can fly us?" Patton asked.

"Who, a dragon?" Virgil shuddered. "Not getting near any dragons, thank you."

"And yet," Janus said, "you're planning to knock on the front door of the biggest dragon family in the area—"

Virgil shuddered again. "Please don't remind me."

"You could fly us!" Patton offered, turning to Janus hopefully. "Once your wings heal, you could take us back!"

Janus stared at Patton for a few seconds. "No."

"Why not?"

" _Why not_." Janus mimicked Patton's voice. "First of all, I'm not leaving again. Secondly, I'm not going back to that town. Thirdly, the town wouldn't want to see me. Fourth, I don't think I'll be allowed to leave. Fifth, just no."

"Yeah, I'm with him," Virgil said, shaking his head. "No flying on dragons, Pat."

"But Janus is nice!"

"He's not, and also, tell that to my brain." Virgil waved his arms wildly at Janus. "I see big wings and scales, I panic. Sorry, but that's just how I'm wired right now."

"Fine," Patton said. "We'll make our way back through the Woods alone. But—Janus, please can you help us? You know how things work, you could convince them to let Logan and Remus go—"

"No, I couldn't."

"Well, um, you could vouch for us—"

"No, I couldn't."

"Well—" Patton huffed. "What _can_ you do, then?"

"Like I said, nothing." Janus folded his arms. "How much power do you think I _have?_ Not a question, don't answer it, the answer is no one cares what I think. I can't just give you a free ticket to instant respect. Nobody listens to me, and if they did, they'd assume you'd corrupted me somehow. _Especially_ if they find out Pat is part Fae."

Patton winced a little. "Keep that on the down-low, then? Gotcha."

"Keep _everything_ on the down-low, Pat, they're your _enemies_." Janus threw up his hands. "This is ridiculous. If we hadn't made it so far already, I might advocate that you turn around and go home."

"Yeah, a little too late for that," Virgil said. "Appreciate the advice, though."

"Janus." Patton stepped forward and grabbed Janus' hand. Cold and slim and paler than Patton's. Patton had gotten a tan and a face full of freckles from working outside. Janus had probably barely seen the sun. "Please. We—I need you. I can't even think of doing this without you!"

"It's definitely clear that I'm the only one with any planning skills," Janus agreed, "but no."

"Please?"

"Just saying 'please' will not get you what you want." Janus pulled his hand out of Patton's. "It's a fruitless venture, I never agreed to help you with it, and I'm not exactly eager to _die_."

Silence.

"Die?" Virgil repeated. "Who said anything about dying?"

Janus stepped back, his face suddenly hesitant. Then it smoothed over so fast Patton could almost convince himself it hadn't changed at all.

"Food," Janus said. "I think that's what this conversation was about, before it veered off on a tangent." He rolled his eyes. "Are we going to actually do anything about the food or not?"

Virgil frowned. "But you were the one who—"

"I think," Patton said, giving Virgil a pointed look, "Janus has a point. Let's focus on food for now. We won't think up any plans on an empty stomach."

"Yeah, but we don't have a plan for the food either." Virgil's tone was bordering on petulant, and Patton knew he was reaching the end of his rope. "Unless you're gonna blast the whole thicket with the magic you don't know how to use. Or Jan will fly over and grab the berries with his claws."

"Kiddo," Patton chided.

"Sorry. I—" Virgil sat down, sighing. "I guess I just realized how completely unprepared we are."

"Hey, that's been true the whole time," Patton said, walking over and sitting next to him. "We've made it this far."

"Barely," Virgil said. "And you've got powers you don't understand, and Janus is gonna lose his strength when it matters most or something, and we're facing dragons. I—" Virgil laughed a little. "We did not think this through."

"I did." Patton shrugged. "Or I did _enough_. I'm going to rescue Logan and Remus. I don't know how that'll work, but I'm going to."

"So optimistic." Virgil smirked a little. "I will never understand you, Pat."

"You don't have to." Patton placed a hand on Virgil's knee. "Just trust me. Alright?"

Virgil hesitantly nodded. "Yeah. Alright."

Patton smiled at him and looked up to ask Janus what to do next. But Janus wasn't facing him. He was staring into the thicket, maybe at the berry bushes, with a look of concentration on his face.

"Jan?" Patton asked. "Whatcha doing?"

"If I'm quick about it, I think I can—" Janus glanced at Virgil. "You might want to, um, stand back."

Virgil obligingly scooted back a few feet.

Janus let out a long breath, a flicker of fire in the center of it. And he transformed. He barely fit on the path, tail lashing out at the thickets. Patton tried to look at the bandages and cuts to see how they'd healed—they mostly had, it turned out, which was good—but before he finished, Janus was airborne.

Patton watched him wing his way into the sky, hover for a few moments, and dip down towards the thicket again. It was always a marvel to watch Janus fly. His scales caught the light, his wings stretched powerfully, and his tail beat up and down in time with his wingbeats. Patton noticed that his broken wing, while a little slow and disjointed, was keeping him upright well enough.

"What'd he do?" Virgil asked, shooting to his feet. "Where'd he go? He's gonna get spotted, he should—"

"He's—" Patton squinted. Janus was entirely out of view. "I don't know."

"That's not good." Virgil grabbed his crossbow. Probably for comfort at this point. "Why'd he just go running off? He's usually all about communication."

Patton stood up too, looking around. He couldn't see Janus anywhere. His heart started to beat faster and he tried to calm himself down. It was fine. Janus had just…gone off somewhere. He could look after himself, and they'd know if he was in trouble—

A shadow covered them, cold and dark.

And several small bushes hit the path at almost terminal velocity.

Patton opened his mouth to ask a question, or maybe scream loudly. A blast of wind stopped him. There were several loud crashes and the loud crack of a branch snapping in half.

Patton hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes. He cracked them open nervously.

Janus was standing sheepishly in front of the bushes.

"What." Virgil paused and breathed heavily, his hands shaking. "Okay. I'm good. _What_."

"Where'd you go?" Patton asked, concern replacing his fear. "You should have explained—why'd you bring us bushes?"

Janus looked confused. "You asked me to."

"I—what?"

"Virgil did." Janus pointed at Virgil, who looked extremely confused. "He said I should fly up and get some bushes, so I did."

"What the—I was _joking!"_ Virgil looked down at the bushes. "You actually—okay. Huh. Why…why the whole bushes?"

"I can absolutely pick small berries off between my claws," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "There should be berries. Just ignore the roots."

Patton bent down and pulled apart some of the leaves. Little red clusters of berries hung between the branches. He pulled a few off and rolled them around in his hand. One popped and stained his hand a bright watery red.

"Huh," Virgil said again. "Um—thanks, I guess."

"Thank you, no guessing involved!" Patton sprung up and beamed at Janus. "That was really sweet of you!"

Janus made an unidentifiable noise of protest and stared pointedly at the ground. Patton made out a small blush. "It wasn't…" Janus huffed. "I can't exactly let you _starve_ , it would be a waste of my time if _that_ was what finally did you two in."

"Still." Patton kicked at the bush. "Um, do these…these are just gonna stay on the path, huh?"

"I uprooted them." Janus nodded. "So…yes."

"Sorry, bushes, you're staying here." Patton held up one berry. "You're sure they're safe to eat?"

"They'd better be," Virgil said from his spot on the ground, "because I just ate like twenty."

"Virgil!" Patton gasped, rounding on him. "Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah, I feel fine. They're kind of tangy, but not bad." Virgil pulled a few more off the bush and popped them in his mouth. "Barely fill the aching void of starvation. I like them."

"You shouldn't just eat random berries," Patton said, ignoring the fact that he'd been about to do the same thing ten seconds ago. "What if they were poisonous?"

"Then I'd die."

"You know," Janus said thoughtfully, "I will never understand why you're terrified of some things and remarkably blasé about others. I think you have a healthy sense of self-preservation, based on how you panic around dragons and avoid the edges of the path, and then you just go ahead and eat berries you find on the ground."

"You were the one who brought us the berries," Virgil pointed out. The redness stained his lips and made him look like a vampire. "And you haven't put this into perspective yet."

"The perspective being?"

Virgil looked up. "I like food."

"Got it." Janus looked cautious. "You're sure you have no ill effects?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." Virgil paused. "Is that a buzzing sensation? Is that poison? No, I'm fine. Wish I had some bread or something."

"I'll be sure to take that into account," Janus said, smirking. "Perhaps I can find a bread tree down the hill."

"Watch it," Virgil warned, his mouth full of berries. "Or I'll send you to get one."

"You don't order me around."

"But you got us berries." Virgil looked adorably pleased with himself. "So…"

Janus huffed. "Well, I won't get you any food again, then. I understand how it is."

"No," Virgil complained, sticking out his bottom lip. "Don't forsake me."

"We're not sending Janus anywhere, he's still injured," Patton protested around a mouthful of berries. He'd already tore his way through half the bush nearest him. They were tangy and a little tough around the edges, but the juice dripped down his parched throat and any food was better than none. "Speaking of which!" Patton jumped up and wiped off his mouth. "How's your wing, Jan?"

"How's my—" Janus blinked a few times. "I—my wing. I flew. I forgot—"

"You forgot?" Patton frowned. "Did it hurt?"

"No," Janus said slowly. "Not much, anyway. It didn't—it didn't hurt!"

"It didn't?" Patton asked.

"It didn't!" A smile grew across Janus' face. "I _flew!"_

"You did!" Patton smiled back, clapping his hands. "It doesn't hurt now?"

"No!" Janus looked more excited than Patton had ever seen him. "I can—you _fixed_ it!"

"It healed itself," Patton protested, trying to stifle his growing blush. He was sure the tips of his ears were glowing red. "I just…helped it along."

"I can fly," Janus repeated, shaking his head and smiling in delight. "I haven't been able—it's been _weeks_ —it hurts a little bit but not that much, I missed it, I—"

"What do you say?" Virgil drawled from where he was munching on berries, his mouth quirked in a smile.

"I, um—" Janus' excited confidence seemed to waver, but his smile didn't lessen. "Well…thank you. Patton. I definitely _don't_ appreciate your help."

"You're very welcome," Patton said, smiling as his entire face caught on fire. Janus was just so adorable! With his shy little smile and the way he fidgeted with his hands and his sarcasm because he wasn't very good at thank-yous yet. This. _This_ was why Patton liked Janus. When Janus wasn't pretending or scheming or being mean. When Janus was just letting himself be _Janus_. That was when Patton really liked him.

He hoped Janus knew that, too.

"Now hug," Virgil said. His tone was bored, but his eyes were soft.

"Oh!" Patton giggled as his blush somehow managed to get even deeper. "I—Jan, you don't have to, of course—"

"Um." Janus shifted from foot to foot and leaned forward. He briefly wrapped his arms around Patton, held them there for a second, and pulled away. It was technically a hug, but it was so quick and awkward and stiff that it barely counted.

But Patton's brain malfunctioned anyway.

He'd been hugged by _Janus_.

Okay, yeah. He'd hugged Janus before. But he'd never been hugged _by_ Janus. It was always a _Patton-does-it-and-Janus-tolerates-it_ thing. Now, though, he knew exactly how it felt to have Janus hugging him. Stiff and a little amateurish, but oddly comforting. Cold and strong and supportive.

"You, um—" Patton tried to keep his voice level. "You didn't have to…"

"Right." Janus stepped further away, looking embarrassed. "I…sorry, I suppose I should have asked."

"No! It's alright!" Patton smiled a little. "It was fine. Good."

Janus nodded back, smiling a little in return. And maybe Patton was just projecting, seeing what he wanted to see, but he could swear that Janus was blushing, too.

"Come on," Virgil complained. "Stop staring at each other or I'll eat all these berries without you."

"Hey!" Patton yelped. "Leave some for me, kiddo!"

And he sat next to Virgil, grabbing another fistful of berries.

"Thanks," he said again to Janus, knowing he didn't have to but feeling like he ought to, somehow.

"Thanks," Janus echoed to Patton.

Patton didn't know what Janus was thanking him for. But he smiled anyway.

It would be hard not to smile when looking at Janus. His little smile, the tilting lilt of his voice, the way he glanced at the sky in order to keep watch and protect them, his lanky frame and his rumpled yellow shirt and his tangled hair that still covered half his burn. Patton caught sight of it as Janus turned, but he didn't feel the same disgust as he usually did. Just a little flash of guilt. Barely audible under the mountains of happiness.

This was what Janus could be. Laughing and throwing berries at Virgil, completely at ease, hair rippling down his back and lounging on the path like he was born sitting there. His yellow eyes caught the light and glowed like sparks from a fire.

Wow.

Janus was…wow.

And Patton was really going to miss him.

"Let's take a break," Janus suggested late in the afternoon.

"What?" Virgil laughed incredulously. "Who are you and what have you done with Janus?"

"I'm serious." Janus rolled his eyes. "You need a chance to rest. And—and I'd like to—this is a good chance to experiment with Patton's capabilities."

"My capabilities?" It took Patton a second to realize what Janus was talking about. "Wait, you mean my magic?"

"No, I'm referring to your poker skills."

"But—" Patton frowned. "You said it was dangerous! Like, yesterday!"

"I did." Janus glanced at Virgil. "Which is exactly why we need to figure out your limitations and what makes you 'go off,' for lack of a better term. I don't want sudden magic when we least expect it, and if we end up in a combat situation, you'll want to know how to fight back."

"But we won't be in a combat situation," Patton said. "We're out of the Woods."

"It's a hypothetical." Janus tugged at Patton's arm. "Sit down and let's try to figure out how it works."

Patton nodded and sat down. Janus sat a few feet away from Patton. Virgil wandered down the path ahead of them, grabbing a few sticks and trying to tie them into a club.

"First, I want to know what happened when you used magic on the—on the bridge." Janus recovered from his stumble quickly. "Everything. How it felt, what you did, why you did it—I want to know as many details as possible."

"Right." Patton twisted his hands in his lap. "So…I was really upset, right? 'Cause the chasm was doing its whole make-us-all-guilty-and-panicky thing. And it made me feel really…cold? And heavy? Did you feel that?"

Something flashed over Janus' face. "I suppose you could phrase it that way."

"Yeah. That." Patton shifted. "So…yeah, I was all cold, and the fire was sparking a bit—"

"I thought you hadn't made the fire yet."

"Not that fire." Patton tapped his chest. "It's like…internal? Ever since meeting the Faerie the second time. I think—I think it's basically my magic. I told you about it. You said it was residual."

"I hoped it was residual," Janus muttered. "Turns out I was wrong."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, you didn't gain magic on purpose." Janus waved a hand. "Continue."

"Anyway, I was feeling all cold, and my magic was heating up and trying to wake me up, I think? It had a feeling something was wrong—or I did? It's not sentient, it's just a part of me—and I was really cold and wanted to light a fire and get warm." Patton spread his hands. "I stumbled, touched the rope, and I kind of tugged inside of myself? Like reeling in a fish or something. And the fire started."

"You wanted to light a fire," Janus repeated. "So it's possible that your powers aren't fire-related at all and they just took that form to help you in the moment."

"I—" Patton paused. "Huh. I—I hadn't thought of that. I've been picturing the magic as fire, but—yeah, I feel like it could be other things to. If it wanted."

Janus' eyebrows contracted a bit. "You keep talking about it like it can think for itself."

"Well, it can!" Patton said. "Not…not really. But kind of!"

"It's your magic."

"But it's not," Patton tried to explain. "Well, it is, but it's separate from me. It got kickstarted and it doesn't know me that well and it doesn't always agree with me. I don't want to say it's like being _possessed_ , but it's like being—advised. It's magic. It senses other magic and it sees the world differently from the way I do. And it knows stuff, and it tells me so I know the stuff, even when I shouldn't." Patton laughed almost hysterically. "Like right now. I have no idea where any of those words came from! It's very terrifying!"

"Interesting." Janus looked like he'd memorized every bit of Patton's speech. "You have a connection, sort of, but you're not the same. I'd like to know if it still feels like your magic, despite this distance."

"It—" Patton wanted to say no. It was fiery and angry and way more powerful than it should be. But…but it nestled right in his chest like it had always been meant to be there. It fit snugly within him and it swirled in his fingertips when he called it. It _belonged_.

And that scared Patton more than anything.

"It's mine," Patton said quietly. "And I—I don't think it's going away."

"Me neither." Janus nodded. "If your encounter with the throne or the moment in which you were participating in a magical deal led to this, it's unlikely that the magic will return to being dormant on its own."

"Do you think—" Patton had to force the words out. They felt wrong in his mouth. "Do you think we could make it go away?"

Janus paused. "Perhaps. But I have no idea how, it's certainly not a good short-term solution, and it could harm you in the process."

Patton nodded. He couldn't believe he'd even suggested it—the idea felt like cutting off his own limb. "Yeah. Got it."

"For now, we should focus on how to control and channel it." Janus reached out and took Patton's hand. "Here."

Patton suddenly forgot all about magic. Because Janus was holding his hand. And Janus' skin was cool against his, his grip was loose, and Patton was definitely blushing violently.

"Light a fire," Janus said.

"What—" Patton tore his hand out of Janus'. "I can't just—"

"Try it." Janus grabbed a twig and snapped it off, handing it to Patton. "Light this on fire."

Patton stared at the twig until he almost went cross-eyed. "I don't know how."

"Try, then."

Patton closed his eyes and tugged. But he knew it hadn't worked. He felt empty and strange and the fire was so deep inside him he wondered if it had ever existed at all.

Maybe Janus was wrong. Maybe his magic had been a fluke. Maybe it had gone away for good and Patton didn't have to worry about it.

That was a good thing. So why did it make Patton feel so sad?

"Focus," Janus said. "Focus on you and whatever your magic feels like, and try to light it on fire."

"I can't," Patton said.

"Yes, you can. You've done it before."

"I don't know how I did it before!" Patton's eyes flew open. "I was angry and emotional and it just _happened_."

"So it runs on emotions."

"I don't know _what_ it runs on!" Patton almost yelled. "Don't you _get_ it? I don't understand it and I can't just _do_ it on cue!"

Janus should have snapped back. Instead, he only hummed to himself. "There's something stopping you," he said.

" _Yeah_ , that I don't know what I'm doing—"

"Something else." Two fingers pressed under Patton's chin and lifted his head up. "Tell me what's wrong."

Patton, who was now only a few inches from Janus' face, suddenly found that nothing was wrong ever and that he'd really appreciate being in this exact position for the rest of eternity.

"I—" Patton tried to remember how words worked. "I don't know how to do this."

"Yes, and you're not trying to correct that." Janus ran a thumb down Patton's jawline and Patton repressed a shiver. The next second, Janus had sat back, his hand disappearing from Patton's face. Patton almost whined at the loss of contact. "I'd like to know why, if that's alright."

"I…I'm—you—it's—" Patton threw up his hands. "You said it yourself! This is dangerous! And I'm—I'm scared!"

Something shifted in Janus' face. "You're scared."

"Yes!" Patton held out the little twig, hands shaking. "I don't know why I have this magic, I don't know what to do with it, I've heard a million stories where magic kills and curses people, and I can't control it so I could end up killing you guys and it would be all my fault—"

"Breathe. Calm down." Janus slipped a hand into Patton's briefly, brushing his palm and grabbing the twig, tossing it aside. "If you're not comfortable, we won't do it, but I really think you can."

"I'm scared," Patton pleaded.

"I know, but—"

" _You're_ scared!" Patton found himself yelling. "You're scared of me, you _hate_ that I have magic, you said so!"

Janus jerked back, his eyes wide. "I'm not—"

"You were." Patton's voice cracked. "You think I'll hurt you. You don't—you don't trust me. And I get it. I don't trust me either. So can we—can we stop trying to make magic happen and can we just go rescue Logan and Remus?"

"We can't rescue them if there's a chance you'll go off like gunpowder every time we upset you!"

Patton flinched. "I'm not going to!"

"How do we know?" Janus waved a hand angrily. "It's Fae magic! That stuff is dangerous! In case you've forgotten, our last experience with it was _your_ ancestor attacked us!"

"I remember!" Patton's voice cracked again. "I remember, Janus."

"I—" Janus swallowed, the vehemence fading from his voice. "That was out of line. It just slipped out, I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did." Patton looked at his feet. "You think I'm not any better than her."

"What—no!" Janus insisted. "You're so much better! I'm just worried that—"

"Worried that what?"

Janus shifted, looking surprisingly vulnerable. "Worried about you."

"Yeah." Patton turned away. "You're worried about me hurting you guys, I get it—"

"No," Janus said, and grabbed Patton's wrist. Why were his hands always so cold? And why was that never uncomfortable—why did the contact make Patton feel _warm_ instead?

"I'm worried about _you_." Janus' eyes were trained on Patton's face. "Magic is…dangerous, especially to the user. You could end up getting hurt, or lose control—on that bridge, you didn't look like you knew what you were doing. You could have died. I…I was—I am—scared that you'll get hurt because of this."

"You…" Patton shook his head. "You're worried? About me?"

"Yes," Janus said simply. "Surprising, I know."

"More like—gratifying." Patton frowned. "Then why were you being such a jerk about it?"

"It's my natural mode."

"Seriously, Jan."

Janus let out a stream of air. "I figured if I bullied you into not using magic, you'd stay safe. Admittedly not the best plan now that I look back on it."

"Yeah, you don't say." Patton's stern expression collapsed and he giggled a bit. "You've got to get better at expressing worry. Or feelings in general."

"Feelings are propaganda of an uncaring society," Janus said, a smirk growing on his face, "meant to encourage consumerism and dull common sense."

"Whatever you say, Jan." Patton leaned forward and bumped Janus' shoulder. "Just…thanks. For telling me."

"Right. And I—I will definitely continue to be a jerk in the future." Janus clearly cast around for a subject change. "Um, magic. You can try again if you'd like."

"You promise it won't hurt anyone?" Patton asked quietly.

"I can't promise anything. It's your magic." Janus pushed the twig towards Patton. "I'm scared too. Just try."

"Reassuring," Patton joked, staring at the twig. "I don't know how to do this."

"Try."

"I'll probably burn down the path."

"Try."

"I could _hurt_ you!"

Janus looked him in the eyes. "You won't."

"I won't?"

"You won't."

Patton turned to the stick and closed his eyes.

He reached down. He pulled at the bits of himself he never listened to—the little whisper that told him to fight back, the anger when he couldn't. He remembered the feeling of the bridge catching fire under his palm, the itch dancing in his chest, the world exploding as he took a Faerie's hand.

He remembered how it had felt to throw those embers at Janus. Instinctive, violent, protective. A desperate move to keep everyone safe.

He tried to light a fire inside himself. He tried to let the fire come to the surface and spill over. He tried to contain the fire, too—to minimize it, to mitigate the damage, to keep it far away from Janus and Virgil. He tried to let go but not _too_ much.

Nothing was happening.

He dug deeper. He pictured the embers leaving his hand, Fae luck leading them to their target. He remembered sinking into the lake with a snake writhing above him, swimming desperately for the surface. He felt the catch and tear of friction and imagined it leading to sparks. He imagined the burn of muscles, the breaking of bones, and how he'd managed to get through it by trying and by fighting and by burning as bright as he could.

For a second, something flickered and jumped up to his throat. It tasted like iron and sulfur and it felt like burning coals. It wasn't unpleasant, though. Patton's skin buzzed and he felt like he could run a mile.

Now just _push_ it. Slowly. Onto the twig, not onto anything else, be _careful_ —

The fire vanished as quickly as it came.

Patton almost cried in frustration. "I almost had it!" he complained, opening his eyes. "I did, for a second, and then I lost it!"

"You did have it," Janus agreed. He picked up the stick. Half of it had crumbled to ash, and the other half was blistered and burned at the edges.

"I—" Patton took the stick in his hand, the ash crumbling in his fingers. "I did that?"

Janus nodded, smiling.

"Whoa." Patton looked up at Janus. "What did it look like?"

"Blue," Janus said. "It…it felt like you."

"I'm blue?" Patton asked.

"You're warm." Janus twitched his fingers in an impression of a fire. "And it was…excitable. So glad to be there. It was almost avoiding the stick entirely. It didn't want to destroy anything, it just wanted to…exist."

"Huh." Patton latched onto the one thing that didn't make him blush and giggle. "I'm not warm! You're just cold."

Janus huffed. "I'm not _cold_."

"You are!" Patton grabbed his hand and pressed it to his face. "Really cold! See, I'm not that warm, it's just by comparison—"

Janus made a weak spluttering noise, and Patton realized he'd just pressed Janus' hand to his face. Patton blushed violently. He was probably _very_ warm now. Janus could probably feel it under his fingertips.

"Um, sorry," Patton said, pushing the hand away. "I…didn't mean to—"

"It's fine." Janus took his time removing his hand from Patton's cheek. "You…good job, with the fire. It must have been difficult."

"Yeah, it's hard to focus." Patton looked down at the burnt stick. "And I didn't even realize I'd done anything."

"Keep your eyes open this time, then," Janus suggested, smirking.

"I'll try that." Patton snapped off another stick. "Try again now?"

"Sure, if you—"

"Guys!" Virgil yelled.

"What?" Patton asked, looking up. Virgil's eyes were wide. Janus jumped up and Patton followed, stick forgotten.

"Look," Virgil said, pointing up at the sky.

Patton squinted between the thorns. "I don't—"

"Oh." Janus started to back away and froze. "Right."

Patton looked closer.

A dark shape swept over the sky. Wide wings and a long tail and glittering scales.

"Dragon," Patton squeaked. "That is a dragon."

"You don't say!" Virgil almost yelled. "What do we do? Hide?"

"Stay still," Janus instructed, his face stony. "If we're lucky, they won't see us."

Virgil immediately stiffened in place. "And if we're not lucky?"

Janus glanced at Patton. "Let's hope his luck holds, is all I'm going to say."

Patton stood stock-still. His heart hammered in his chest. He clutched the stick in his hand and tried to stop from shaking. His breath was loud in his ears.

The dragon passed over once, twice, three times.

"Leave," Patton heard Janus whisper. "Leave, leave, please leave."

"I hate this." Virgil's voice was raspy. "I—is it gone yet?"

"No," Janus hissed. Patton had never seen him this tense. Not even when they'd talked to that Faerie. His fists were clenched and his jaw was set tightly. "Oh, come on, _leave_. You've got better things to do, haven't you?"

"Should you be talking?" Patton tried to say without moving his lips.

"It's safe. They can't hear me." Janus breathed in and out, in and out. "It's also pointless, since they can't hear me, but I'm attempting to calm myself down and why am I telling you this."

"Who is it?" Virgil asked. "Do you know?"

Janus looked up as the dragon passed over them again. It seemed very close. It also seemed very large. It had pinkish scales, Patton realized—they'd only looked dark because of the sun behind it. Its wings must have been longer than Patton's whole house.

"Emile," Janus said slowly. "I think it's Emile."

"Emile?" Patton asked. "Is that good?"

"It's good. Emile's actually pretty great." Janus hissed between his teeth. "But I might be wrong. And it might be Vanessa. Or Estella."

"And if it's them?" Virgil asked, looking like he wasn't looking forward to the answer.

"If it's them…" Janus grimaced. "We might be in trouble."

Patton swallowed and tried to stand even more still.

He didn't know how long they stood there. Emile—or whoever it was—kept passing over, doing little loops in the air, so big and so near and surely he'd look down and see them and they'd get caught. And then what? Patton didn't even know why he was scared. Yes, it was a dragon, and dragons in the sky brought back bad memories, but they were going to _talk_ to these dragons. Why was he hiding?

He was hiding because Janus told him to. Because Janus was scared, even though he tried to hide it, his face white and his shoulders tight and his lips pressed together.

And anything that could scare Janus—be it Faerie, or gryphon, or snake, or dragon—Patton didn't want to mess with.

Patton was quiet and cold and scared and waiting for the dragon to leave.

"Please leave," he whispered in an echo of Janus' voice, which had finally gone silent. "Please leave, please leave, please—"

Please. If he had any luck in his blood, if the world had any karma. He shivered and squeezed the twig in his hand until it snapped and hoped that thistles were enough to hide them.

"Is…" Virgil's voice was hoarse. He coughed a bit and tried again. "I haven't seen it pass."

"He could be—" Janus didn't bother to finish the sentence. "We should still wait."

So Patton kept waiting. He tried to focus on every bit of himself and make everything stay still. His knees were aching from being locked in place. His hands were sticky with old dried juice. His overalls were tight across his chest. His old bruises and cuts stung, especially the ones around his abdomen. His hair hung around his head in a frizz of curls. His barettes were long gone, probably. He wiggled his toes in his old shoes, twitched his nose and pictured the freckles stamped across it, and chewed a bit at his lip. He must look like a mess, he realized. And he couldn't stand still, either. Every bit of himself vibrated and ached and buzzed with energy and trembled with anticipation. He was a little bit cold for no reason and the fire inside him was twitching angrily, eager to be released.

"I haven't seen him." Janus didn't relax. "I think…"

Another minute passed.

"I think he's gone," Virgil said hesitantly.

"Let's wait a little longer."

"He's gone," Patton said after a few more minutes. "We haven't seen him, Jan."

Janus sighed and slumped forward, finally falling out of his tense posture. "Good."

"Oh, thank heavens." Virgil crumpled to his knees. "Sweet, sweet movement."

"I bet that's how prey feels all the time," Patton said idly. "Little rabbits. And that's why—"

"And that's why you don't eat meat, I know." Virgil bit his lip. "That's…I don't like that much. That we're prey. It's a Remus kind of thought."

"Nothing wrong with Remus."

"I think a lot of things are wrong with Remus," Virgil joked. "He'd say so, anyway."

"Yeah." Patton swallowed and nodded to himself. "Um, thanks, Virgil. I…kind of needed that?"

It was true. Thinking of Remus made his chest loosen a bit and some warmth returned to his fingers. Patton sat down on the path and stretched each of his muscles individually. That had been scary. And he wasn't looking forward to meeting more dragons. But being reminded of Remus made Patton's resolve harden. He _had_ to rescue Logan and Remus. They deserved it. They were Patton's _friends_. It was the right thing to do.

And who else would?

"So," Virgil finally said. "Should we get moving?"

"Briefly," Janus agreed. "It's getting late—we can sleep later. We'll want to stop moving by nightfall, since we're—"

"Nocturnal. I know." Virgil smirked. "You know, I do listen to you sometimes. How far are we?"

"If dragons are doing flyovers?" Janus shrugged. "Less than a day, probably. Maybe even just half a day."

"Really?" Patton asked. That was good news. So why did his stomach clench? "That's…wow. That's close."

"Yeah," Virgil said, glancing up at the sky.

"Come on," Janus said, only standing up and gesturing for them to follow.

"What about magic?" Patton asked, standing up as well. Every joint complained but he shook off the pain.

"They might notice it." Janus began to walk down the path. "Walk slowly, and if you see any dragons flying over, alert everyone else."

Patton nodded.

He spent the rest of the afternoon staring into the clear blue sky, watching for any sign of dragon wings and scales.

There was nothing, but his heartbeat didn't calm down.

Patton shouldn't have been awake. It was the deep still section of night, when the moon was highest in the sky and even the crickets quieted. He wanted more than anything to close his eyes and sleep. There was nothing stopping him—no nightmares anymore, no fire and spiders and falling buildings and dragons with burnt scales. He should be safe.

So why was he awake?

Patton stared up at the sky. He could barely see it through the thistles, but a few stars peeked in-between thorns. He rolled over to the side, trying to shake the thoughts from his head. His eyes remained resolutely open.

He felt…lost.

Not in the sense that he didn't know where he was. Although he didn't. Janus did, and Patton trusted Janus, and he knew they were still on the path somewhere. Close to the dragons, maybe too close. Directions weren't the problem. Patton was fine with directions.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the strange feeling inside of him. He felt like…like he'd just lost a security blanket. Or stepped out of a warm hug. Everything was cold, from the surface of his skin to his heart. He rubbed a hand up and down his arms. It didn't help. His skin was warm beneath his fingertips but burned cold everywhere else.

He felt strangely empty. Adrift, as if a rug had been pulled out from under him, a cold current washing him away. Like he'd had something keeping him steady, and now that it was gone, he finally realized what he had.

Everything inside him was so cold.

And the thistles were dark against the sky, and the stars were far away, and the ground stretched out below him, cold and hard and inhospitable.

Patton felt vaguely terrible. He had no idea why. Sometimes he just felt _bad_ and there wasn't much of an explanation for it. But this wasn't like that. He'd never felt so cavernously empty.

Patton swallowed and sat up, hoping the movement would jolt him back to reality. It only made him feel more disjointed. He felt like—what did he feel like? He was thinking up all sorts of words but none of them fit entirely, none of them matched the fullness of the loss he felt inside him, none of them could measure up to the deep slicing coldness inside of him. Words were hard. Words weren't bottomless enough and broad enough and painful enough to explain anything at all.

He felt unbalanced. He felt like he was walking a tightrope and the safety net had just been taken away, leaving him trembling alone in the darkness.

He felt bad. Maybe that was the simplest way to put it.

And that, he knew what to do with.

Patton plastered a smile on his face and stood up, stretching his arms and legs, trying not to make a sound so Virgil and Janus wouldn't wake up. What he needed was a little walk to clear his head! Just down the path and back, not straying. And things weren't so dangerous here. They were out of the Woods, literally.

That thought made the aching wrongness inside of him grow deeper.

Maybe he was just nervous about tomorrow. Maybe…maybe he was just used to the Woods. Maybe he just felt weird being in such new territory. The thistles might be safer, but they were prickly and strange and different. It was just the adjustment period. That had to be it.

And it was good that they were out! Those Woods were terrible. Patton hoped he'd never have to go there again.

So why did he find himself staring at them?

He could just see the tree line if he looked closely. He shouldn't be able to, he thought vaguely, since it was so dark, but the Woods were clear. He could almost see the iron shining within it. The chasm was between them, and several miles of thistle, but after that were the Woods. Dark and mysterious and clustered together like people whispering together.

He swore he could hear them whispering.

Patton took a step forward. If he looked closely, he could see blue fire dancing among the roots, reflecting against the iron. He shouldn't be able to see that. He found he wasn't really bothered.

The whispering was louder. It was becoming a dull roar in his ears. Had they gone near a waterfall without Patton noticing? It was hard to think. He listened closer and picked out a few consonants, the slip of a vowel, the curve of a word he could almost place.

The Woods rustled in the wind, far out of reach.

Patton could go to them, if he wanted.

Which he didn't! Of course! What was he even _thinking?_ The Woods were dangerous. He'd almost died a dozen times in there. He was lucky to have made it out in one piece. They were sneaky and shadowy and spider-filled and safe—

What?

Why'd he think _that?_

Patton shook his head violently, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain. The whispering was so loud. He swore he caught fragments of sentences, but they slipped through his mind without a trace. Maybe it was a different language. Maybe he was just hearing things.

Yeah. He was just hearing things! He was tired and needed to go to sleep.

Patton didn't move. He'd forgotten how. He should probably be more bothered by that. But moving away was the last thing on his mind.

Thistles. Chasm. And the Woods, sparkling under the stars, luring him in.

He didn't _want_ to go back.

But he could. He could run down the path and leap across the chasm and find his way back into the Woods. He could stay on the path—or he could go off the path. He could see what he could find. He could explore all the bits Janus wouldn't let him see, and he could finally feel at home, surrounded by branches—

Patton shook his head again. This time it barely registered. His mind was a million years away.

He could go to the Woods.

Or he could make the Woods come here.

And Patton felt, very certainly, that he _could_. That's what he was hearing in his head, in-between all the whispers he couldn't understand, the words he couldn't make out—but he understood the intentions. They were little pokes and prods. Little voices beckoning him. Just testing to see whether he was there.

 _I'm here,_ Patton thought. _I'm here, I hear you, and I can't go yet._

He couldn't run back there. Not yet. He had—he had to help his friends. After that? Maybe. Who knew. For now, he was stuck on bare earth with an empty sky and dull air.

He could bring the Woods here, if he wanted.

If he stretched out his hand. If he let the little flame inside his chest, dampened by the cold, spring to life. If he closed his eyes and gave in and _tugged_.

He could, if he let himself—

He shouldn't. He wouldn't. He _could_.

Everything was cold and the fire inside of Patton was warm and the voices in his ear were loud and the Woods were too far away.

He reached out one hand. It felt like pushing through a million strings. His feet were rooted to the ground. Was this what it felt like, to turn into a tree? Was this what it was like for Virgil, slowly losing your form, stiffening and shaking and digging into the ground until he could hear everything around him? He could almost feel his roots, small and shaky but growing by the second, making their way back to the Woods.

He could _tug_. He could close his hand and tug—the fire was leaping around in excitement—he could just—

"Pat?"

And everything broke. The voices around Patton fled. He wobbled, suddenly feeling much less like a tree and much more like a human who was standing on a path at midnight, staring in the direction of Woods he couldn't even see.

"Pat?" Janus asked again, appearing by his side. "You…you were just staring down the path. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course!" Patton tried his best to smile. "I must have zoned out. I'm really tired."

"Are you sure?" Janus' eyes were trained on his face. "I don't want you following a will o' the wisp like I did."

Patton giggled. "There aren't any here. We're out of the—" A small tug. A little twinge. He needed to fix things, he needed to go back, he wasn't safe here— "Woods. And I'm fine."

"If you say so," Janus said. "You should get some sleep."

"Good idea! You too!" Patton bounced over to his sleeping bag and flopped back into it. He felt a little less cold but a little bit more like he'd missed an important deadline, like something hadn't clicked into place but would if he just thought-tried-listened a little harder.

Janus must have climbed back into his sleeping bag too, because when Patton peeked down the path, there was nobody there. Nothing but darkness. He had no idea how he'd convinced himself he could see the Woods—they were miles away, and there were thistles in the way, and it was so dark! Silly. His mind was just playing tricks on him. He needed to get some sleep.

His mind refused to let him get some sleep.

Eventually Patton climbed out of bed again, studiously avoiding looking in the direction of the Woods, instead pacing back and forth along the thistles. After a few minutes he decided that wasn't working, so he plopped back into bed again, right back where he started with no sudden tiredness.

"You're still awake," Janus said. Only he could make it sound annoyed as well as worried.

"So are you," Patton fired back.

"You should sleep."

"So should you."

"I…I can't sleep."

"Neither can I."

Silence.

"Jan," Patton said, "what's on your mind?"

"A lot," Janus said. "You're reaching the Mountain tomorrow, after all."

Patton didn't want to think about that. "What's the main stuff, then?"

Janus sighed. It was more of an exhale than a sigh, more frustrated than sad. Patton didn't know what he was frustrated at. "I want to ask you a question."

"Really?" Patton shrugged. "Go ahead!"

"What? No!"

"I don't mind," Patton said.

"I do." Janus paused. "It…wouldn't be fair, to ask you a question and force you to tell the answer. It wouldn't be a good thing to do."

Patton laughed. "Since when do you care about good?"

It was meant to be a joke. But Janus was silent, and Patton had the feeling it hadn't been taken as one.

"You can ask me a question," Patton said, almost apologetically. "I won't mind, honest."

"I don't want to." Janus huffed in frustration. "I mean, I want to! I want to get a real answer. But—that's not—I don't want you to be forced to tell the truth." His voice dipped. "I'm not sure I want to know the truth. If it's possibly a lie, I can make it be whatever I want it to be."

"Sounds like a serious question." Patton found himself growing a little bit concerned. "Ask away, Jan. It seems like it's bothering you a lot."

"Don't…" Janus was clearly uncomfortable, but he hadn't ended the conversation yet, and he was still trying to talk. "Don't—this doesn't mean anything. It's just something that's on my mind for curiosity's sake."

"What is it?" Patton asked.

Janus didn't speak for a long time.

"I won't judge," Patton said softly. "Promise."

Janus breathed in, breathed out, breathed in, and breathed out. It was measured and controlled. He was trying to keep himself steady.

"I want to know—" Janus swallowed. "I want to know if you hate me."

"If I what?" Patton hadn't expected anything, but he definitely hadn't expected _that_. " _Hate_ you?"

"You don't have to answer," Janus immediately said. "I was just…curious. I—I'd like to know."

Patton chewed on his lip as he thought it over. Did he hate Janus? Hate was such a strong word. He didn't like to use it much. And Janus was certainly nice and selfless and funny when he wanted to be. And he had nice eyes, and he always looked out for Patton, and he told the best stories, and he always knew what to say when Patton didn't want to talk.

But he was a dragon.

And he was going to betray them, wasn't he?

"I want to," Patton finally said. Was that a lie? He didn't know. "I _should_."

"But…" Janus let the word linger in the air.

"You've hurt people," Patton said instead.

"Yes," Janus said.

"That's not good."

"It isn't."

"You—" Patton rewound the clock and ran through his first memory of Janus. Seeing the dragon curled in the dusty, smoky courtyard, only held off by Roman in his red pajamas. Hissing, fire singeing the stones, and then Roman was hurt because that wall fell on top of him, and Janus had approached. So Patton threw the embers and Janus got burned. "I thought you were going to hurt him."

"Who?"

"Roman."

"Ah." Janus seemed to be smiling a bit. "The annoying one you convinced not to come with us? Yes, him."

"Yeah." Patton sighed. "I was just trying to stop you from hurting him. But—you weren't, were you?"

Janus seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "I don't know what you mean."

"You hadn't hurt him." Patton looked over at Janus in the dark. There was nothing but a vague gleam of yellow from his eyes. "Would you have? If I hadn't hurt you…what would you have done?"

"I don't know."

"What's your guess?"

Janus was silent for a long time, and Patton wondered if he'd fallen asleep.

"That was my first raid," Janus said quietly.

Patton could have asked a million questions already, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I wasn't even supposed to be there. All the other Js stayed behind." Janus shifted on the ground. "Juveniles, to answer the question I can hear you thinking. There are seven of us—used to be nine, but life happens, and you don't last long if you don't know how to fight."

This wasn't Janus' storyteller voice. It was soft and hesitant and had a little brittle crack in some of the vowels.

"I practically begged to be included." Janus laughed a bit. "I had no idea what I was getting myself into. It just seemed like a way to make myself look good. You take whatever you can get."

Patton felt an uncomfortable twinge in his stomach. Going on missions he wasn't prepared for, trying to be more mature than he was, hoping he would look good and that would keep people from hating him—yeah, that struck a chord.

"I'd barely ever seen a human before," Janus continued. "We have a few servants, usually, but they often—um—struggle with the fact that they're very flammable."

"Is that—" Patton caught himself. "Sorry. You were talking."

"Go on."

"That's why they grabbed Logan and Remus?"

"I'm assuming so." Janus sighed again. "Creating fire doesn't make you exempt from being nervous around it. The entire town was blazing. I had no idea what I was supposed to do—I don't usually make a habit of asking for instruction manuals—so I was wheeling through the clouds on my own and trying not to choke on the smoke."

Patton was seized with the sudden desire to hold Janus' hand. Too bad he was like five feet away and also probably wouldn't appreciate it. He settled for making a sad little noise and grabbing at his blanket instead.

"I dipped in too low, a beam fell on my wing, you know that part." Janus laughed a little again. Every time Patton thought he'd categorized all of Janus' laughs—the sarcastic guffaw, the smug little chuckle, the real happy laughter, the suppressed snort—he was faced with another one. This one was rough and scratchy around the edges and seemed to be used more to fill up silence and loosen something in Janus' throat than express any actual emotion. It reminded Patton of Virgil a bit.

"I found my way to the first open area I could, tried to take off from there, ran into Roman with his ridiculous pajama pants and large pointy sword." Janus' voice was breaking off at the edges like sugar dissolving. "I was injured. I had no idea what I was doing. I—I panicked."

Patton nodded. "I panicked, too."

Janus might have nodded as well. It was too dark to say for sure.

Patton laughed a bit. "Neither of us are very good at apologies, aren't we?"

Janus laughed too. It sounded less like his broken laugh and a little more real. "I think you're alright."

"Not when it's important." Patton wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the chill in his bones. "Not when it matters."

"Since when does this matter?" Janus asked.

"You know it does!"

"I'm not sure," Janus said, "if this is as important as you think it is."

"How isn't it?" Patton's voice rose and cracked at the same time. "I _hurt_ you! And if that was wrong—if I need to apologize—then I did the wrong thing!" He waved one hand in the air, trying to stifle his tears. "I'm not _supposed_ to do the wrong thing! I _thought_ it was right and it—it hurt you—and—"

"Calm down," Janus said softly. "Take a breath."

"Right." Patton took a few shaky breaths. "I—I'm better now. Sorry."

Janus snorted. "You can apologize for being upset and not for burning someone?"

"It's…" Patton couldn't explain the difference. One was simple—he was in the wrong, he'd gotten upset, so he'd apologized. The other had weighty implications and a million questions and said that he was a bad person if he admitted he'd done something wrong. "It's complicated."

"I could tell you what I think," Janus said, "about what you were saying. If you wished."

"Sure," Patton said. "Go ahead, Jan!"

"I don't think you should be dwelling on what's right or not, because it doesn't really matter." Janus huffed. "I know, it sounds like my usual cynical 'morality is an illusion, society is a sham, and death is inevitable' speech, but bear with me. You did what you did, you helped your friend and hurt me, and that's over and done with." He made a little poof noise that was weirdly adorable. "Nobody's right a hundred percent of the time. Nobody manages to help every single person in the world without hurting people in the process. Everyone's just looking out for themselves and the people they care about."

The people they care about. Patton didn't remember Janus including that before, but it made him feel a bit better, somehow.

"You're trying to help as many people as you can. And that's understandable. But sometimes to help," Janus said almost sympathetically, "you have to hurt. That's unfortunately the way things are."

Patton giggled a bit. "I hate that."

"I figured you would." Janus laughed a little, too. "The truth hurts sometimes."

"Tell me about it." Patton swallowed once, twice, three times. He closed his eyes and opened them. He focused on the coldness across his shoulders, the fire in his lungs, the dull ache of the remaining bruises and cuts. He could do this. He could. It didn't—it didn't mean anything. Or it meant stuff, but the stuff was good stuff.

He'd hurt someone, and he needed to apologize, because that person was now his friend. It was that simple.

It had always been that simple.

"I—" Patton whispered. "I'm sorry, Jan."

"I know," Janus said.

"How—"

"You're not a very good liar, even without questions." The smile was apparent in Janus' voice, but Patton didn't feel like he was being mocked. "I still think this isn't fully necessary, but…for whatever it's worth—I forgive you."

Patton gasped a little. "Just like that? But—"

"It will heal soon," Janus said. "The scar, I have to admit, looks pretty awesome already. Injuries happen, intentional or unintentional."

"But—" Patton tried again.

" _But_ mostly, I forgive you because you are the most ridiculously good and selfless person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting." Janus chuckled. "Despite what you think of yourself, that's remained true. If I don't forgive you, you'll tear yourself apart over this, and you—" His voice dropped. "You don't deserve that."

Patton rolled over and stared at Janus' silhouette. "I forgive you, too," he found himself saying. "Not that you did anything wrong."

"I did plenty of things wrong, stop talking out of your butt."

Patton giggled. "You haven't done much wrong _lately_."

"I threatened a sphinx two days ago." Janus' eye-roll was almost audible. "Look, maybe I've been alright, but so have you. Yet you're still apologizing, so I'm doing the same."

Patton frowned. "I thought you said the past doesn't matter."

"You've misinterpreted," Janus said. "I've said that the past doesn't _have_ to matter, especially when it doesn't affect the present at all. You can make the choice to let go of it." Janus huffed. "Of course, that _definitely_ counts for all misdemeanors—it's not a perfect system—but for things like this? The past only has power when you believe that it does."

"So I shouldn't have apologized?"

" _So_ you should stop beating yourself up about whether you 'should' apologize or not." Janus turned to face Patton, his eyes glowing in the dark, surprisingly sincere. "There are no set rules for these things and you shouldn't feel guilty for not apologizing enough or in the right way. In fact, you shouldn't be feeling guilty in general for something that happened a long time ago, that you've tried to correct, and that the victim has forgiven you for." Janus shuddered. "Victim. I'm never referring to myself as that again."

Patton swallowed. "What about really bad stuff?"

"You haven't murdered anyone, have you?"

"That—" Patton winced. "That _cannot_ be where the bar is."

"You made a mistake." Janus paused. "Not even that—you made a choice that wasn't perfect out of several bad options. I really think you should stop worrying about this."

"I know." Patton sighed. "Easier said than done."

"Definitely. Try your best, though." Janus' voice dipped again. "And know that I've forgiven you, and that I don't think there was much to forgive."

Patton stared up at the night sky and counted the thorns he saw. "It must have been so scary for you that morning."

"I'm sure it was scary for you, too."

"And after that," Patton added. "Waking up somewhere you didn't know, without any family nearby? I'd have been terrified."

"I was more furious," Janus said. "I shouldn't have been surprised. Everyone for themselves, it's always been that way."

"When you come back," Patton asked, "will things go back to normal? Like—how it was before we met? You stay in the Mountain, I go back home?"

"If I'm lucky." Janus huffed. "They might well make a scene or kick me out if they feel like it. I'm only guaranteed my spot if I bring them something worthwhile with me."

Patton swallowed. "Like two humans who tried to sneak up on them?"

Janus' voice was carefully blank. "That would certainly be a possibility."

"But you won't." Patton sat up suddenly, staring at Janus. "You wouldn't! Right?"

"I can't say," Janus said, turning away.

"You _won't_."

Janus was silent.

"You don't want to," Patton almost pleaded. "I know you don't."

"I don't exactly have a choice."

"You have several bad options," Patton said, almost smiling. "But we can help you get out of this. We can!"

"You're ridiculously optimistic," Janus said, and it sounded close to fond.

"Someone's gotta be!" Patton crossed his arms. "Janus, say it!"

"Say what?"

Patton pushed out his bottom lip. "Say you won't betray us."

Janus huffed. "I won't betray you," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Say it seriously!"

"I won't," Janus said. It certainly sounded sincere, but Janus was an expert liar, and the truth in the middle of the night might not match the truth during the day.

And Janus was right. He didn't necessarily have a choice.

"Promise me," Patton blurted out. "Will you promise not to let us get hurt?"

"Promises are worthless," Janus said, his voice lilting again the way it always did when he was teasing. "They're fake and only serve to make the user feel better. Words have no meaning, art is dead, destroy the rich."

"Promise me." Patton clasped his hands. "Please?"

Janus sighed for a very long time. Then he forced out "I promise."

It was quick and rushed and layered with annoyance. But there was something in the center of it that felt sincere.

"Thank you!" Patton exclaimed.

"Don't mention it." Janus waved a hand. "I'm being serious. If you mention this to anyone, I will personally destroy you."

"You still promised, though."

"Only because I didn't see a reason not to."

"Darn right! Pinky promise?" Patton waggled a pinky. "They're extra-binding."

Janus snorted. "Don't push it."

And they fell into silence again. Patton felt he should really fall asleep, but the conversation still felt unfinished, like he hadn't managed to get across all he needed to say. His skin was cold, his heart was burning, and words refused to align in his head.

"I don't hate you," Patton finally told the sky. "As long as you don't hate me."

"You're ridiculous." Janus' voice was barely audible, but Patton heard it clear as day. "I've never hated you."

Patton smiled widely at the sky. "Thanks, Jan."

"Why do you still call me that?"

"I guess I just made a habit out of it." Patton shrugged. "Why? Do you—I can stop, if you want."

"No. It's—" Janus let the word trail off. "It's fine."

"You're sure?"

"Positive." Janus huffed. "Now go to sleep, I have better things to do than talk to you all night."

"Alrighty!" Patton beamed in Janus' direction. "Sweet dreams, Jan!"

"Sweet non-dreams, Pat."

Patton wished he could say he fell asleep right away after that. But he didn't. He stayed awake for a long time afterwards, trying not to think about the day to come, his body cold and his chest uncomfortably warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things sure are going well again


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: head trauma and unconsciousness, threats and manipulation, implied child abuse

"So," Virgil said.

They were sitting on the path, eating the last of the berries. Patton was already getting tired of berries. These ones were slightly smaller and more sour than the others, and lots of them were squished, and there weren't nearly enough. Janus hadn't been able to fly and grab any bushes. He might be spotted. So Virgil, complaining loudly the whole time, had squeezed his way into the thicket and picked as many berries as he could. He got a few cuts across his face and his hoodie was slashed open, but the new additions just blended in with his older injuries.

Patton would have gotten the berries himself, but Virgil insisted. Patton thought about just burning a path for Virgil. He was pretty sure he could, if he tried.

He was also pretty sure that was the exact _opposite_ of remaining unseen.

Patton tried to light a little fire anyway. It took three tries, but his irritation made the twig in his hand catch fire at the top, burning blue like a little matchstick. It started racing down the twig towards Patton's fingers, sparks flying, and Patton immediately tried to shake it out. It didn't waver. He concentrated and tugged the flame out of existence.

It worked. But not quickly enough. Patton was left with little burns on the tips of his fingers and the taste of smoke in his mouth.

At least the berry juice killed the sting a little.

"So," Janus said after a few more seconds of silence.

"We should probably…" Virgil gestured vaguely. "Keep going."

"Yep," Patton agreed, not moving.

"We're close," Janus said. He didn't sound very excited. "If we hurry, we can get there by lunchtime."

"I thought you guys were nocturnal," Virgil pointed out.

Janus paused. "Right. I…didn't think of that."

"You didn't think of something?" Virgil smirked. "Perish the thought."

"Well, why don't we wait, then?" Patton suggested, trying not to sound too desperate. "We can just, um, stay here all day, and tackle this at night. Or maybe tomorrow night!"

Janus sighed. "We can't delay this forever."

"I'm not saying forever," Patton said, although he might possibly be okay with forever. "I'm saying…just a little while."

"Jan's right," Virgil said. Janus raised an eyebrow and Virgil glared at him. "Don't get a big head about it."

"I guess," Patton admitted. "So we go?"

"So we go," Janus said.

Nobody moved.

"I don't know if you're aware," Janus drawled, "but 'going' often involves moving one's feet and not just sitting on the path like lost lumps of manure."

"Watch it," Virgil muttered. "Besides, you're doing the same thing."

"I'm moving!" Janus shifted slightly. "In a second!"

"Guys, we can do this. It's fine! We need to actually go to the Mountain!" With great effort, Patton smiled. "All stand up on three, alright? One…two…three!"

Virgil sighed, Janus ran his hands over the dirt, and Patton hugged his knees.

"I'm scared," Patton whispered.

"Yeah," Virgil said. "Me too."

"I'm…apprehensive," Janus said. His face was unreadable. "But probably not for the reasons you think."

"Right, you're plotting to betray us," Virgil said, but there was no bite in the words. "Can you give us some real food before you kill us? It'll be really nice of you."

"Sure," Janus agreed.

"Great." Virgil stretched out his legs. "And be careful with my crossbow, okay?"

"Of course."

"And maybe leave an opening for us to escape—"

"Seriously, V?" Janus' annoyed tone didn't match the way his lips tugged in a smile. "I don't take orders from the people I betray and kidnap."

"You should. Customer satisfaction is important." Virgil glanced at Patton. "Pat, you've manned the cashier before, how else do you treat a customer?"

"With kindness and respect," Patton answered automatically. "And always give them a baker's dozen."

"You heard him," Virgil said, turning back to Janus with a wide smirk on his face. "Be kind to us as you knock us out. And if you end up stabbing us, make it thirteen times as a little treat."

"I would never _stab_ you." Janus paused. "I would strangle you, much less messy."

Virgil chuckled. "You could _try_."

"I'll do more than try, trust me—"

"Guys," Patton said weakly.

Janus and Virgil turned to Patton.

"We…" Patton swallowed. "We need to get going. Before I lose my nerve."

"Yeah." Virgil sighed. "Yeah, we do."

"Well." Janus stood up. "Follow me, then?"

"We always do," Patton said, forcing himself to his feet.

Virgil stood up, too. And they just stood there for a long minute. Patton shuffled his feet in the dirt. Virgil rubbed at his sleeve. Janus worried his lip between his teeth. The bushes were still around them. It was a flat, hot day with the sun bright between the thorns. Patton peeked up at the Mountain near them. The peak scraped the sky and he thought he spotted a flash of scales by one of the caves. His heart jumped in his throat. But when he looked closer, there was nothing.

Finally, Janus sighed and started to walk. Patton looked at Janus' feet. The limp was gone. His stride would be almost confident if it weren't for the way he tucked one arm around his waist. Like he was hugging himself or protecting himself from onslaught.

Virgil followed him, fingers drumming on his crossbow, chewing a hole in his lip.

Patton came last, feeling the fire twitch and trying very hard not to look at the Mountain.

This was it. This was _it_. They'd fought their way through the Woods and now they'd made it. Logan and Remus were in reach. They might be in the Mountain right now! Patton wondered how they were feeling. Maybe they were working on an escape plan, or maybe they were talking together, or maybe they were hiding in a corner. Maybe they were scared. He'd never seen Logan or Remus scared—except for the raid, Logan standing over Roman with a knife in one hand, Remus babbling on under the Liberty Tree. And then both of them were gone. They must have been _terrified_.

Patton couldn't believe they were so close.

He couldn't believe they'd _done_ it.

They'd made it. They'd actually made it! Sure, they didn't know how they were actually going to do the rescuing part. Sure, they didn't know how they were going to get back home. Sure, Janus was going to leave them soon and Patton really didn't want to say goodbye and he honestly couldn't imagine trying to pull anything off without Janus there to improve the plan and make fun of Virgil and calm Patton down. But they'd actually escaped the Woods! They'd actually made it all the way to Dragon Mountain! Nobody had ever done that! They'd said it was impossible, but it _wasn't_.

And now they were here. And now Patton was realizing he'd never actually thought about what to do when he _got_ to the Mountain. Janus was right. He didn't have a plan. He just had a vague idea of convincing the dragons to let his friends go.

He couldn't keep putting it off. He was running out of time.

But where to even start? He barely knew anything. He just knew what Janus told him, and Janus could be lying—no, Janus wouldn't lie. Patton trusted Janus. But everything Janus told them was vague. He didn't seem to like talking about the dragons. Maybe Patton should ask him more about the dragons? Then again, he'd tried that on that smaller mountain, and Janus had gotten really defensive.

A lot had changed since then.

Patton watched Janus' hair ripple in the wind. He watched Virgil rub at the sleeve of his hoodie. He watched Janus pull at his shirt like he was getting ready for a party. He watched Virgil scratch at the back of his neck. He watched Janus, he watched Virgil, and he tried to think of what to say.

He felt completely and utterly out of his depth.

What was he even supposed to do?

He imagined Virgil, a Virgil who was relaxed and leaning over the counter of the shop, not this Virgil with sweaty hands and a messy mop of hair. He imagined Virgil popping some crackers into his mouth and tried to think of what Virgil would say.

"Just wing it," Imaginary Virgil advised around a mouthful of cracker. "You're lucky, right? So you should just let your luck help you out. Plus, you're super nice. No way they could say no to you. Anyway, can you do my chores tonight? I'll give you my cookies at dinner."

Patton shook his head. Winging things was not a good plan. He let Imaginary Virgil slouch his way out of Patton's head and replaced it with an Imaginary Roman. Imaginary Roman hopped onto a crumbling wall by the orchard and swung out his legs, wind rustling his hair.

"Fear not!" Imaginary Roman said. "I'll save you! You needn't fret or attack yourself! I'll just grab my sword and do away with those villains."

Not helpful. Roman wasn't _here_. They'd left him behind with a broken shoulder, and there was no way Patton was putting anyone else in danger.

An imaginary Remus kicked Roman off the wall and took his place, trying to do a headstand and only managing to bruise his shin. "Whatcha worried about, Patty-Cake? Just bash 'em all in the noggin! Go in, weapons ready, and show them what you're about! Element of surprise and all that. Hey, you wanna rob the bakers again?"

Patton smiled a bit and let Imaginary Remus linger, smiling widely, his dirty shirt riding up on his shoulder. The advice wasn't that helpful—Patton knew he wouldn't last in a fight, and he wasn't eager for one—but he liked watching Remus try and cartwheel down the wall.

"You're being ridiculous," he heard, and Imaginary Logan stepped into view, a smile tugging at his lips as he adjusted his glasses. "You can't just make one all-encompassing plan for such a situation. Not when you know next to nothing about the terrain, situation, and antagonists. So clearly, you should plan to adapt your strategy based off what you experience. Start with negotiation and move on from that."

Imaginary Remus chucked an apple at Imaginary Logan's head. Imaginary Roman climbed back up onto the wall and jostled Remus playfully, who jostled back. Imaginary Virgil strolled into view and propped himself up against the stones, rolling his eyes and huffing when Roman kicked him in the shoulder. Imaginary Logan grabbed the apple from the ground and tossed it back, beaning Roman in the chest. Roman yelped and dove at Logan, Remus grabbed Roman's foot, Virgil jumped to Logan's defense with a smirk—

"Leave."

An imaginary Janus, his yellow shirt unwrinkled and his fingers running along the edge of his beanie, was sprawled on the grass. He was laughing at something Virgil was saying. Roman complained and Janus snarked back, which made Logan point something out, and now Janus was teasing Logan as Remus tossed an apple at both of them.

"Leave," Imaginary Janus repeated, still smiling, but there was urgency in his voice. "What you need to do is get _out_. I have no idea how you're supposed to get back home, but at least you'll be able to try. It's too risky to even attempt that kind of stupid quest."

Patton shook his head. He couldn't. They'd come too far.

"There's no way you'll win," said Imaginary Janus, eyes gleaming. "Cut your losses and go home."

Remus and Logan weren't acceptable losses.

Patton's mind was filled with a sunny afternoon and grinning faces and apples flying through the air. Virgil, Logan, Roman, Remus. And Janus, laughing, like he'd been there all along. Like he hadn't just forced himself into Patton's memories. He was like a little parasite, digging into corners he didn't belong in—but no. Patton…he didn't mind it. He didn't mind having Janus here in his little bubble, fangs catching the light as he threw his head back and laughed, his face clear of any burns.

It was a fake memory and it always had been.

But it could be real if Patton succeeded.

It could be.

Patton breathed out and let it go. He'd gotten what he needed. He was going to talk to the dragons, and maybe fight them if absolutely necessary, and then go home.

"How close are we?" he asked as he shoved himself back into reality.

"Too close," Virgil muttered.

"Close," Janus said.

"Too vague," Virgil complained. His tapping was growing even more frantic. His fingers hit the crossbow with such force Patton was afraid he'd hurt himself. "Ugh, I hate this! I feel like we should be trying harder not to be spotted!"

"We'll be spotted in a few hours anyway," Patton said, trying to be reassuring but sounding more resigned. "It's no use hiding."

"Tell my brain that."

Patton reached for Virgil's hand to still his tapping. "Nobody's flown over."

Janus winced. "Yes, someone has."

"What?" Patton's voice cracked. "I didn't see!"

"You must not have been paying attention." Janus glanced at Patton. His lips were pressed together and his eyes were shifting around, like he could see right through the thorns and spot whoever was near. "A dragon passed a few times."

"Great," Virgil muttered. "Great, great, this is just _great_ —"

"You can always stay behind," Patton reminded him, though he knew the answer he'd get. Virgil was stubborn. Virgil wouldn't leave Patton in danger.

And Patton appreciated that.

"I'm staying," Virgil said. Just like Patton thought.

Patton should have hated that Virgil was in danger. But instead, he just felt a little warm inside. He really didn't want to leave Virgil behind. He didn't want to be alone.

Well, _more_ alone.

"When are you leaving?" Patton blurted out, hoping that Janus would open up just a bit more. "I—right when we get in? Or before? Or—"

 _Stay,_ he didn't plead. _Please stay. I don't know how I'm supposed to do this without you._

"Well, I can't exactly abandon you now, we're all headed in the same direction." Janus' smirk was quick and taut but still made Patton's nerves loosen. How did Janus _do_ that—make Patton relax with just a little smile? "After that, I suppose I'll—"

A blast of wind.

Patton stumbled for purchase on the ground. When he found his balance, he looked up. There was a streak of brown above them, another blast of wind that sent Patton wobbling and tilted the tops of the thorns, that almost but not quite drowned out Virgil's loud cursing. Patton glanced at Virgil to make sure he was okay. He was, but he was scowling the way he did when he was scared, his knuckles white on his crossbow.

As for Janus, he'd barely flinched. His muscles were tight under his shirt. His fists were clenched and his chin was thrown up. His feet shifted. He was ready for a fight.

Patton was very much not ready for a fight.

And maybe Janus realized that. Because Janus stepped forward and held up his arm in front of Patton, shielding Patton from something Patton couldn't see.

There was a third gust of wind, that whipped Patton's hair around and robbed him of breath, and a loud sound of thorns breaking.

Dragon.

A _dragon_.

A dragon so much larger than Janus, deep chocolate brown with black ridges, eyes gleaming a brilliant white. Its wings arched over it, casting shadows over the thorns around them, some broken from the landing. It didn't fit on the path. But it didn't seem bothered by the branches underfoot—one swipe of a gigantic tail cleared them away.

Patton found himself absolutely speechless.

Virgil backed away, aiming an unloaded crossbow at the gleaming flank, hands shaking.

Janus rolled his eyes. "And they say I'm one for dramatics."

The dragon huffed, a bit of fire trickling into the air, and suddenly it was gone. In its place was a human figure, standing in the middle of the crushed thorns with a relaxed air, like this was what it did every day. Black hair, shocking white eyes, sunglasses resting on the tip of the nose, a little scar that curled around the chin, a pronounced slouch beneath a black leather jacket.

"So," the dragon drawled, looking from Patton to Virgil to Janus like they were mice he'd discovered in his floorboards.

Patton waited if he was going to say anything else. Apparently, he wasn't. He just kept watching them with those slitted white eyes, peering above his sunglasses with eyebrows raised.

Janus sighed. The tension, Patton noticed, hadn't gone out of his shoulders. "Hello, Remy."

"Is—" Virgil's voice dipped and he swallowed. "Is he, like—hi. You're a dragon. Are you—Janus, is he—"

Remy—that was the dragon's name, apparently, and Janus said it easily like he'd done it a million times before—seemed to ignore Virgil altogether. His eyes had settled on Janus, and he was taking in every inch of Janus, the intensity of his gaze unsettling.

"You're alive," Remy finally noted, sounding like he definitely couldn't care less. "That's new."

"Congratulations, you win a prize." Janus' voice dripped with sarcasm. "That's all you've got to say?"

"I'm gathering my thoughts." Remy shrugged and looked at Patton and Virgil. Patton shivered a bit as Remy's gaze passed over him. "You've got friends."

"They're not my—" Janus cut himself off in the middle of the sentence, huffing a laugh that sounded a little forced. "What, you think I'd be friends with _them?_ I do have standards."

"Sure, babes." Remy gestured at Patton with a movement that seemed to use the least amount of muscles possible. "Who are they, then?"

"Names are dangerous," Janus said, but it was a teasing tone. A little tug-of-war. "Pat and V, call them that."

"What am I, a Faerie?"

"No less annoying." Janus rolled his eyes. "Pat's the Faerie here."

Patton flinched. Then flinched again when Remy raised an eyebrow, whistled, and said "Nice one."

Janus shot Patton a glance. Patton tried to believe it was apologetic. It didn't look apologetic—it looked a lot like Remy. Sizing him up. Calculating.

"I figured you'd gotten kidnapped by a bunch of humans," Remy continued, "which is pretty understandable for you—"

"Bite my tail and choke on it," Janus said mildly.

"—but a Fae? That's more interesting." Remy tucked one hand in his pocket. "So, does he own you or something? They know your name."

"He doesn't." Janus bit his lip briefly. "He can't do that—he can't do any Fae magic at all. There's no use getting your scales out of order about it."

Patton frowned a little. That wasn't true. So why—

"Believe me," Remy said, "I don't really care about your little playmates. They're not threats and I'm just wondering why you babes decided to come _here_. 'Cause tbh, if I was a mini thing like you, I'd stay out of the way."

Janus shifted. "They—"

"Let them talk." Remy rolled a hand. "They've been all clammed up from the start. Dunno why. What's up, small creatures?"

"Hi," Patton said, the words bright and brittle. "Nice to meet you!"

"Um." Virgil shifted. "Yeah. What he said."

"Oh, put that down." Remy strolled over and pushed the nose of Virgil's crossbow down until it pointed at the dirt. "I'm not going to hurt you yet. We're just making conversation. Like people do! The fighting comes later. And trust me, some itty bitty piece of wood is _not_ going to help you."

Virgil made a little squeaky noise, pulled his crossbow away, and took five or six steps back.

"Remy," Janus said impatiently. "Enough with the threats. They want to talk to Mara."

"What." Remy snickered. "That'll be fun to watch."

"We don't want to!" Patton interrupted. "I mean—not unless we have to? We want our friends back!"

"Your friends." Remy stared uncomprehendingly for a few seconds. Then he clicked his fingers. "You mean the ones we got from that village? Glasses boy and curly hair? One annoyingly blunt, the other just annoying?"

"Yep!" Something fluttered in Patton's chest that felt dangerously like hope. "You know them?"

"Nope, never met them."

" _Remy_ ," Janus complained.

"Fine." Remy rolled his eyes harder than even Janus. "You're no fun. Yeah, I know them. They've been hanging with us for a while."

"Great!" Patton smiled. "So…yeah, we want them back!"

"Good for you," Remy said.

"To clarify," Janus said. "They want you to give them back their friends, in exchange for nothing, and think somehow you specifically are capable of making this happen."

Remy snorted. "Watch it, Pat! Your little kidnappee is mouthing off."

"I didn't—" Patton started.

"He didn't—" Virgil said at the same time.

"He didn't kidnap me," Janus said, sounding like it was physically painful to admit.

"So…" Remy lifted one dark eyebrow. "You…"

"Came of my own accord." Janus looked sheepish for the first time. "I needed to get back, and I—"

"Helped some random humans," Remy finished. He whistled softly. "You're even stupider than I thought."

Janus bristled. "I'm not—"

"You're attached." A slow grin grew on Remy's face. "They're attached to _you_. You made _friends_."

"They are not my _friends_."

"And you came back." Remy shook his head, smiling like a cat that had caught the canary. "You're dead. You absolute idiot, you're _dead_."

Janus' lips peeled away from his teeth and he was snarling, yellow eyes narrowed, looking only a few seconds away from shifting forms entirely. "I will rip you apart," he growled. "I'm not going to sit here and let you—"

"Whatever, babes. Whatever." Remy glanced at Patton and Virgil again. "Your little buddy-pals are headed to Mara? I could make that a quicker trip."

"Remy," Janus warned. "Don't—"

"What? They want to talk to her, I can make that happen." Remy's careless attitude slipped for a second, and his voice darkened. "They'll talk to her whether I help out or not."

"Then don't." Janus waved a hand. "Leave us alone. I have this under control, I'll—"

"Do you?" Remy snorted again. Patton was growing to dislike Remy. He didn't dislike many people, but something about Remy's carefully lax manner made him feel uneasy. And he didn't like Remy's eyes. They were too shifty and cunning and seemed to gut Patton chest-first, pull out all his innards, and turn them over for examination.

"Yes," Janus said, and he sounded like he really did. "I've gotten them this far. I'll make them see Mara, and it's not my problem what happens afterwards."

"Really?" Remy teased. "Just leaving your new besties behind? Very mean of you! I can't believe you could be so cold and cruel."

"It's none of your business what I do." Janus folded his arms. "Why don't you go back to flying in circles, and I'll take care of my own duties?"

"You know I can't do that, babes." Remy's voice was dipping again. Less languid, less joking. Something was taut and heavy in the middle, an anchor wrapping around Patton and pulling him to the bottom of the ocean.

"Since when do you follow the rules?"

"Since when do you break them?" Remy fired back. "Why would you even associate yourself with a bunch of random humans armed with a piece of wood and really dirty clothing? I'd understand if you'd gotten kidnapped, but you chose to just go _with_ them. That's actually pathetic, Janus."

Janus' mouth opened and snapped closed. Patton wondered why he didn't tell Remy about his injured wing. Patton could tell Remy himself, but he had a feeling he wasn't supposed to interrupt.

"And now they're going to die," Remy said casually, in the same tone someone might say 'and now I'm going to sleep.' "And that's your fault."

"I hardly care what happens to them," Janus said, affecting a callous tone. "I just don't want _you_ taking all the credit for _my_ catch."

"Yeah, you ain't the one doing the catching." Remy drummed his fingers on the seam of his jacket. "So…Pat and V, right? Are you friends? Do you have little in-jokes? Tea parties?"

"Just _leave_." Janus bared his teeth. "Leave us alone. I don't have time for your little popularity contests right now, and I'm definitely not going to suck up to you, if that's what you're after."

"You're not? Shame." Remy clicked his tongue. "Guess I'll tell the others, then. I'm sure Mara will love to send in a welcoming party."

"You—" Janus' voice was strangled. "Come on, Remy, there's no need to get anyone involved."

"They said it themselves, they want to rescue their friends!" Remy grinned widely. His teeth were very sharp, Patton noticed suddenly. "I'm just trying to be helpful! Give me some credit here."

"We want to talk to them," Patton admitted, "but…I don't like the sound of—we want to talk. Not fight."

"Came to the wrong place for that, babes." Remy adjusted his jacket. "I'll be off, then? Sound the alarm and all that. Think I'm the first flyover to actually spot any intruders, maybe I'll get a promotion—"

"Remy," Janus insisted. His voice was losing its cool anger. Panic tinged the edges. "Remy, _don't_ , you hate them as much as I do."

"Yeah, but I'm realistic." Remy looked at Patton and Virgil once again. This time, the edge of his lip curled in something close to a snarl. "And I'm not the one hanging out with humans. You wanted no trouble, you should have killed these guys."

"I assumed they could be useful."

"We'll be the judge of that." Remy flexed his shoulders. "Just stay put, babes, okay?"

"Don't." Janus stepped forward. "Don't, or so help me they will never find your body."

"Oh no, I'm so scared, don't hurt me." Remy rolled his eyes. "Are we done here?"

"No!"

"We're done here."

"Remy, wait—" Janus swallowed. " _Please_. Please let them just walk into the Mountain. Don't get everyone else involved."

Remy was silent.

"Please," Janus repeated, his voice cracking.

"That's new," Remy finally said. "They've done a number on you, haven't they?"

"Remy, listen to me!"

"I am!" Remy paused. He pressed his lips together briefly and his eyebrows came together over his forehead.

"Please," Janus repeated. "Please just pretend you didn't see us and let us go."

Remy sighed, just a bit, and looked at Janus with pity and resignation.

"Sorry, babes." Remy sounded almost like he meant it. "Nothing I can do. For what it's worth, it was nice knowing you."

Janus opened his mouth to respond and was met with a gust of wind and a sudden dragon, looming over them, white eyes set deep in the black ridges of its skull. Two powerful wingbeats and Remy was airborne, a brown smear across the sky, moving faster than Patton had ever seen Janus go.

Soon he disappeared behind the thorns.

And Janus, Virgil, and Patton were left standing alone. The thorns around them were crushed. Somewhere in the distance, Patton thought he could still hear those wings, tearing through the air.

Janus hissed between his teeth. "Well, that went according to plan."

"It didn't," Virgil said.

"I _know!"_ Janus whirled on Virgil. "It was sarcasm. I assumed you could pick up on it! Fine, I'll admit it—it did _not_ go well!"

"I don't know," Patton added, walking over to Janus and Virgil, glancing at the empty sky. "I mean…maybe it's not _that_ bad? We do want to talk to the dragons, right?"

"They won't want to talk, I'm guessing," Virgil said, "and it sounds like if we want to get them to listen, we don't want to get swooped up in a field."

"We don't have much of a choice," Janus said. His voice was quiet and bland, but his eyes were shifting around and his hands twitched at his sides. "They'll be here any minute now."

"So we run." Virgil stepped towards the thorns. "So we run, right?"

"Run where?" Janus asked.

"Run!" Virgil waved his hands wildly. "Run anywhere! Anywhere's better than _dragons!"_

Patton scrounged up his last shred of optimism. "I still think we shouldn't be running from the people we're trying to talk to."

"And like I said, it's _different_." Janus rounded on Patton, his eyes wide with either panic or anger. "Pat, I hope you realize they're going to _kill_ you. You had a shred of a chance that they'd listen if you aimed for the higher-ups and got into the center of the Mountain, but now? You'll be classified as intruders and I have no _idea_ what they'll do to you."

Patton involuntarily took a step back. Janus was suddenly sounding very loud and very angry, and Patton figured it probably wasn't at him, but it was still kind of scary.

"And now I get lumped in with you idiots," Janus added. Oh. Yep. He _was_ angry at Patton. "So thanks a lot."

"You chose to come with us," Virgil argued, already starting to glower. "There's no time for you to be a jerk right now, we have to figure out what to do!"

"You're right," Janus said, to Patton's surprise. "There isn't any time left."

The wind around them was picking up. Patton peered into the sky. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he saw scales, gleaming in the sunlight.

"But you're also wrong." Janus swallowed and turned away. He was staring at the sky, the wind whipping his hair and shirt, one hand coming up to his chest. "There's nothing you can do."

"Yeah, sure," Virgil said, though he didn't sound very confident. "We've always made it through before."

"Yeah!" Patton gave Virgil a thumbs up. "That's the spirit!"

Virgil gave Patton a thumbs up in return, but his face was less than optimistic.

The wind was growing stronger. When Patton looked up, there were colors—every color in the rainbow and some outside of it, scarlet, cyan, magenta, a deep vibrant orange, mauve and ochre and turquoise. It would have been beautiful if it didn't make Patton forget how to breathe. It would have been beautiful if it didn't bring back memories of the last time he'd seen these dragons.

Virgil was starting to tremble, clutching his crossbow, and Patton could tell he was thinking the same thing.

"No time," Janus said, still not turning around. "It was a nice run, though. I liked it while it lasted."

"We're not going to die!" Patton protested, though he wasn't really sure how he'd make that happen. "C'mon, Jan!"

Janus sighed and turned around. "Fine. I'm not going to die."

"That's the spirit sort of!"

Janus looked back at the darkening sky and his jaw clenched. "Virgil, pass me your crossbow?"

"Um, sure?" Virgil handed it over. "Doesn't have any bolts, though."

Janus turned the crossbow over in his hands, running his fingers along the wood. He nodded to himself and looked up. He lifted the crossbow.

And slammed it into the back of Virgil's head.

Patton screamed.

Virgil crumpled to the ground, limp as a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Janus stood there, a little bit of blood on the crossbow, poking Virgil with his foot. Virgil didn't move. His hair flopped over his eyes and blood began to leak from the back of his skull.

"Wow," Janus said. "I can't believe he actually gave it to me."

Patton fought for words. All he could think of was _what?_

Janus looked over at Patton like he'd just remembered Patton was there.

"Virgil," Patton stammered out. "Is he—you killed him!"

"He's alive. I think." Janus shrugged. "Not that it matters."

" _Janus_ —"

Before Patton could move or figure out what to say or pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, Janus was next to him, hands around Patton's wrists. Cold and smooth and not as comforting as Patton remembered. Janus tugged them almost gently behind Patton's back. Patton didn't even struggle. He felt completely lost.

"Janus," he tried again, hoping something coherent would come out this time. "Janus—you—what?"

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't see this coming." Janus huffed and rolled his eyes, and it was such a _Janus_ expression, and yet Janus had just attacked Patton's best friend. "Hold still or I'll have to knock you out, too."

" _Janus_ ," Patton pleaded, throwing everything into that word. His eyes pricked with tears. He tried to shimmy out of Janus' grip, but the cold of Janus' hands leeched into him, and his knees were weak.

"It's survival." Janus looked away. "Nothing personal."

Patton desperately grabbed at Janus' hand, fighting for something—anything—to get him out.

Fire blazed between them, blue and cold and angry.

Janus jumped back. A burn grew on his fingers. Pink and red and there Patton was, hurting people again, and now Janus was staring at him with eyes wide and Janus had just hurt Virgil and the fire in Patton was leaping out of control and he just wanted to drag everything back into place.

"I'm—" Patton choked on the words. "Jan—"

And the crossbow came up to meet Patton's skull, and the world exploded in stars.

He felt himself slump forward. Someone caught him. Virgil? No, it was still Janus, hair covering his face. Everything was too blurry and dizzy to catch his expression. Patton hoped he wasn't smiling.

Then again, it didn't matter.

Like Janus said. They were out of time.

Above them, the dragons closed in, and Patton's vision went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright everyone who saw it coming, raise your hands, don't be shy


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: threatened murder, treating humans as objects or possessions, panic attack, crying, self-esteem issues

Patton wasn't where he was supposed to be.

He didn't know much else. Everything was black and his head hurt and he was having trouble thinking. He'd just been asleep. Which meant he should be in his bed. Or at least on the ground under the stars. But he couldn't see any stars and he was sitting up? Maybe? He couldn't feel his legs. He tried to shake them and they tingled, not moving very far at all. He was trapped. That wasn't right. Usually in bed, he could move.

Why couldn't he see anything?

He couldn't hear, either. Nothing but the pounding of blood in his skull. All he could do was feel—feel the rough edge of his overalls, the stickiness at the back of his head, his hair flopping limply over his face. Rough ropes around his wrists and ankles. Sweat pooling under his collar. It was warm in here. Warm and damp and smelling like something Patton couldn't place.

Patton shook his head to try and clear it. Mistake. Pain welled up and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter and waiting for it to fade.

"Pat?"

Virgil.

 _Virgil_.

"Virgil!" Patton blurted out, eyes flying open. "Are you okay?"

"Shh!"

Patton looked around. It was still dark, but his eyes were adjusting, and now he could see a few faint glimmers of fire. He twisted around to where Virgil's voice had been—it was harder than it should be, he was being held in place by several loosely tied ropes—and saw Virgil nearby, curled up next to a wall of solid rock, a bit of dried blood by his hairline. His eyes were narrowed and his breathing was shallow.

He was tied up, too. Patton reached for Virgil's ropes and tried to tug them away.

"No use," Virgil muttered, barely making any sound.

"I could—" Patton remembered the fire he'd used against Janus—Janus, _Janus_ , _no_ , not _thinking_ about that—and how it had burst so easily from his hands. "If I was careful, I could burn—"

Virgil shook his head minutely. "They'd see."

"Who—"

Then Patton realized someone else was talking.

Slowly and carefully, he turned back and got his first good look at where they were.

They'd been dropped like sacks of potatoes at the edge of a large cavern. Fire gleamed at the edges, not on any candles or torches, but just little bits of ground that burned yellow and gold. Stalactites—or stalagmites? Patton could never remember which—hung from the ceiling high above, glittering in the firelight, sharp enough to skewer Patton right through. A few tunnels were sunk into the wall, dark and empty, none near enough to make a break for it.

And inside were the dragons.

Well, they had to be dragons. They didn't much look like dragons, except for one blue dragon with a speckled snout and a broken horn. They just looked like people. Most of them were adult-sized, but a few kids were trying to climb the wall, looking unbothered by whatever was happening. Some dragons sat on the ground, lounging against the rocks. Others stood up by the wall. Patton didn't recognize any of them, just their features—most had the same narrow nose, some the same brown hair, a few even had similar eyes. They were all related, that was much was obvious. And they were all interested in something. Some were whispering to each other, others glancing over at Patton and Virgil every few seconds, eyes wide.

Patton tried to look nonthreatening. Maybe he should close his eyes and pretend to be asleep. Virgil was doing that—either that, or he'd drifted into unconsciousness again. But Patton was still looking. He was scanning the crowd for one dragon in particular.

And there he was. Leaning against the edge of one of the tunnels, playing with his sleeve, hair hanging over his face. But it was him. The same yellow shirt, the same thin hands, the same smooth brown hair.

Patton noticed it was less tangled than before. He'd had time to brush it.

How long had they been unconscious?

Unconscious because of Janus—

Nope. Nope. He was _not_ going down that road, not now, because it made his chest seize up and something inside of him rip open.

Patton stared at Janus for a second longer, willing Janus to look up, hoping against hope that he'd see something that explained all of this. That made Patton feel less shattered.

And Janus did look up.

He looked up, met Patton's eyes, and looked away.

If there was anything to see, Patton missed it.

The knife in his heart twisted a little bit deeper.

Patton turned his head away and tried to listen instead. Some of the dragons were talking. Were they speaking a different language? He didn't recognize the sounds. No, it was the same language, those were words Patton recognized. It was just the dialect. Dragons spoke with languid ease, dropping consonants at the end and tilting every vowel around until it sounded just a bit different than Patton's version. He hadn't noticed Janus having an accent, but now that he looked back, he realized Janus had always spoken just a bit slower and smoother than Patton, words blending into each other.

Patton concentrated hard and tried to listen.

"…not safe if…"

He shook the cobwebs from his mind again, ignoring the flash of pain that caused, and pricked his ears.

"…should let them go," one dragon was saying, with glasses and a pink cardigan and a frown on his face. "We can't have humans just wandering around the Mountain, and the little things can't be any threat! If we just let them leave, this entire thing can be over—"

"That's such a waste!" argued another dragon, this one swallowed by a dark hoodie and leaning against the wall like he had better things to do than try and stand up on his own. "Emile, don't be dense! They've just wandered into our domain, we should make use of this!"

"We should just kill them," said a third dragon, tossing her short hair over her shoulder and rolling her eyes. "I don't like them already."

"They haven't even talked," a fourth pointed out.

"They don't need to. I don't like them."

"You don't like anyone," said the first dragon—Emile?

The third dragon shrugged, smiling guiltily. "Kill them. That's all I'm saying."

"It'd be such a drag." That was Remy, Patton remembered, sitting with his legs spread out. A small dragon was sitting on his knee and poking at his shoe. He vaguely swatted at her. "Killing makes a real big mess. And it smells really nasty."

"Then get them to help us out," said the second dragon, hands stuck deep in his hoodie. "We can have them work for us—there's no harm from having a couple other helpers around."

"We already have two," Remy argued, "and two's way more than enough for me. One of them tried to stab me yesterday."

"Kill him," advised the third dragon.

"You always say that."

"One of these days, you'll listen to me."

Remy rolled his eyes. "I hope not."

"Anyway," Emile interrupted, "I really think we should just live and let live here. Maybe they'll find their way back to their home and nobody will get into trouble."

"They'll know where we live!" piped up a shorter dragon with curly dark hair and a rumpled flannel shirt. "They'll come back here with all their friends, and then—wham, bam, destruction, violence, terror, you know the drill. I, for one, do not feel like going through all _that_."

"Like they could stand up to us," the dragon with the hoodie fired back, sneering. "We could crush them like _bugs_."

"Yeah, but—"

"You know," Remy said, cutting everyone else off, his eyes shifting over to Janus. "I think we should hear from the person who actually got us stuck with them."

If Janus was surprised to be addressed, he didn't show it. He just rolled his eyes and shrugged in an expert combo. "Couldn't care less what you do with—the humans."

"If you had to choose, then."

"Not my jurisdiction." Janus smiled thinly. "What, asking Js for advice? It's almost like you can't think for yourself."

Remy snorted and didn't rise to the bait. "I'm sure you've got some opinion in there. You've never held back before."

Janus chuckled. "Watch it."

"Enough, you two," Emile said, folding his arms. "Janus? Do you have an opinion?"

Janus glanced around at the dragons who were all now staring in his direction. He took a few seconds before speaking. "Whatever you decide, I'm fine with. But I _will_ say that I didn't drag them through the Woods by their bootstraps for you to just toss them back into the trees."

"Noted," Emile said.

"And." Janus stepped away from the tunnel. "And none of you can actually make this decision, remember?"

Remy winced. Emile clicked his tongue. The other dragons glanced at each other and fell silent.

"Where is she, anyway?" one dragon finally asked, glancing around.

"Ask Emile," another dragon said, growling. "He's her best friend, right?"

"Hardly," Emile admitted. "I think she's—"

"—doing things she wishes," a new voice finished, "and it's none of your concern what they are, understood?"

All the dragons whirled. An older woman with salt-and-pepper hair tied in a rope down her back had slipped out of one of the tunnels. She didn't look like much—petite and round-faced with deep green eyes. But from the way everyone slowly leaned away, she was more powerful than she appeared.

"Hi, Mara," Emile ventured. She gave him a Look that even Virgil or Janus couldn't top.

So this was Mara. Small and silent and lined around the eyes, not even glancing at Patton and Virgil but somehow conveying that she'd already seen them, understood every inch of them, and found them lackluster.

"Stick them with the others," she said. "I don't want them dirtying up any perfectly good caverns. If they cause trouble, toss them off the Mountain. If they don't, maybe we'll do that anyway. All depends on how useful they end up being."

It was pretty similar to what all the other dragons had been saying. But Mara was the first to send real chills down Patton's spine. He had a feeling she _would_. She'd kill them personally if she felt like it. Without even breaking a sweat.

"Who'll take them?" asked one of the dragons, the words tumbling out in a rush like they were afraid to take up too much time.

"Remy and Emile." Mara turned away and waved a hand. "Now stop loafing about, it's pathetic. I don't have any use for gossipers."

Immediately, all the dragons jumped to their feet and hastily slipped into the tunnels around the cavern. Only a few remained. One whispered something to Mara, who laughed a bit with no humor before disappearing as well.

"Well," Remy said to Emile, "I guess we just drag them?"

"No, they're awake!" Emile waved at Virgil and Patton. "Hi! Sorry about the scare, I guess!"

Patton looked at Virgil for support. Virgil looked about three seconds from passing out again. He was on his own.

"Nice to meet you too," Patton squeaked. "It would be even nicer if you untied us maybe?"

"Don't think about escaping," Remy said idly as Emile walked over and untied the ropes. "You're in the heart of the Mountain right now and there's a maze of caves between here and open air. You'll need a dragon to get out."

"Remy," Emile scolded as the ropes came loose. "You just _told_ them how to escape!"

"Oh." Remy shrugged. "Nah, it's fine. No dragon's gonna risk going against Mara."

"Can you stand?" Emile asked, turning back to Patton. Patton stumbled to his feet. His ankles wobbled and his head spun, but after a few seconds, he felt pretty steady.

"Yeah!" he answered.

"Great!" Emile moved on to Virgil, who stared at him with something between terror and sleepiness. "We're just going to move you to the room with the other two humans, okay?"

"The other two?" Patton had heard that before, but he hadn't dared to hope. "You mean—Logan and Remus?"

Then he realized it probably wasn't a good idea to give away his friendship with them. Yeah, he was here to rescue them, but that had gone a little bit off track. Janus would have stopped him from saying that—

But Janus wasn't here. Janus had disappeared with the other dragons without a glance in Patton's direction.

"Yep," Emile said, and Patton breathed a sigh of relief. Emile seemed alright. Then again, who knew with dragons? "Alright, you two, come with us."

"And don't try anything funny," Remy added, grabbing Virgil's arms and hauling him upright. "I'm really not in the mood to kill anyone tonight."

"Tonight?" Patton decided to ask instead of focusing on the killing part.

"It's night," Emile explained. "You must have gotten hard knocks on the noggin."

"Yeah," Patton said, swallowing.

Emile shoved Patton forward gently, and Patton started walking. Remy led the way, Virgil almost limp in his grasp. Patton stared at the bloody back of Virgil's head to try and get him to turn around. Virgil did briefly, but his eyes were glassy. Patton didn't know if it was from panic or blood loss. Either way, he needed to help his friend _now_.

But he couldn't. Not until they stopped walking. And the tunnels they'd entered already seemed endless, with dark crannies and dripping ceilings and glowing caves along the side. Patton peeked in a few. He didn't know what he expected—hordes of gold, maybe, or rich tapestries. Instead he saw more dragons. A few of them were really young. Some were reading books, others playing catch, and two must have been playing tag, because they ran right in front of Patton, giggling.

Then they looked up, froze, and stepped backward. Patton glimpsed grubby faces, rough hemlines, and wide eyes.

"Run along," Emile said, not unkindly. "Okay?"

Two brief nods and the kids disappeared into the shadows.

It was so _dark_. Even with the brief fire that Remy spat into the air, Patton could barely see either end of the tunnel. He assumed dragons had some night vision. He certainly didn't. He kept stumbling over rocks and bumping into corners. He couldn't imagine how bad it was for Virgil, who was still practically listless, Remy half-dragging him along.

Patton tried to memorize which direction they went. But he knew it was pointless. _If_ he remembered correctly, which he probably wouldn't, he'd just get back to that cavern. He had no idea how to escape from there.

Janus would know.

Janus wasn't _here_.

Janus had betrayed them, just like he'd said, and now Patton and Virgil were alone in a dark mountain with only dragons for company.

Dragons…and their friends.

Patton tried to focus on that part of things. Yes, his newest friend had attacked them. Yes, he might never see the sunlight again. Yes, they were one wrong word away from being tossed off the Mountain. But they'd finally reached Logan and Remus! He'd be able to see them again! And maybe they could still pull off this rescue mission!

Yeah. Who was he kidding? Patton couldn't pull off a shoe in his current state, and it was four teenagers against fifty dragons.

Patton had never felt so absolutely _stuck_. Trapped under layers of rock, far from the sun and the sky and the trees. The Woods had been terrible but there was always a path, always a way out, and they always managed to slip through the branches and make it out alive.

If there was a path here, it was too dark to see it.

Lost in his thoughts, Patton didn't notice when they slowed to a stop. But he did notice a careful shove in the middle of his back that sent him tumbling into a small cavern lit with a golden, shaky glow.

"Stay here," Emile advised.

"Yeah, wandering the tunnels is a fast way to get a broken skull." Remy propped Virgil up against the wall. Virgil promptly slid to the ground. "Now you four play nice, okay? See you soon."

You _four?_

And Patton was left alone, Emile and Remy disappearing soundlessly through the little archway. The cavern around him was just the same as millions of others. Patton stepped after Emile and Remy but the darkness in the distance made his heart flutter. Besides, he couldn't leave Virgil.

Patton turned around again to take a look at their new prison. A few stalagtites, the glow of a dirty oil lamp, a cobbled-together bunk bed—

And Logan and Remus, staring at Patton with wide eyes, mouths open.

Oh.

_Oh!_

Patton's face split into a grin and he rushed forward. Remus tumbled off the bed and Logan followed, and before Patton could even open his arms he was swept up in a huge hug. Remus' hair tickled his chin as he was spun around again and again. Patton squeezed his eyes shut and giggled until the movement stopped and he touched down on solid rock. Another arm wrapped around his shoulders and Patton looked up.

Remus was still hugging him, his eyes bright and his smile huge, raking in every inch of Patton. Logan pressed as close to them as he could. His smile was smaller. His eyebrows were pinched in concern.

"You're here," Remus blurted out, laughing a bit, patting Patton down and squeezing him even tighter. "You're _here!_ Patty-cake, I _missed_ you!"

"Missed you too," Patton said, his own throat closing up. Remus was smiling so wide. It should have made him happy, his friends by his side, warm and close and smiling and _there_.

Instead, Patton just felt cold.

And Remus must have felt it, because he let Patton go and stepped back, smile cracking at the edges.

"You're here," Remus said again. Not a shout of triumph. Quiet and small and worried.

"Why are you here?" Logan asked. His smile was completely gone. "You shouldn't—Patton, what did you _do?"_

Patton opened his mouth, found all the words he tried to say got jumbled up in his head, and settled for shrugging sheepishly.

"Patton." Logan looked alarmed now. "You're—does anyone have any idea you're here— _Patton!"_

"Virgil does," Patton protested.

_Virgil!_

He'd forgotten about Virgil. Oh, he was such a bad friend, why couldn't he be a little less selfish for three _seconds?_

Patton dashed over to Virgil. Virgil had managed to tuck himself neatly into a little corner, water wetting the edges of his hoodie, knees pressed to his chest. He looked awake and alert, but he wasn't saying anything, and he was just staring into the distance. He hadn't tried to join the others. He hadn't tried to move at all.

"Virgil." Patton crouched next to Virgil and reached out. Then he pulled back. Then he reached out again. Then he settled for hovering his hands over Virgil's shoulder like Virgil was a flame he was afraid to go near.

"Virgil, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Virgil looked up. "Yeah," he mumbled. "'M fine."

"You don't sound fine!" Patton tried to peek around and see Virgil's injury. "You got knocked on the head pretty hard. Do you have a concussion? Oh my gosh, you could have a concussion!" Patton stuck up two fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two. What's happening?" Virgil tried to pull himself up and only managed to slide back down the wall. "Pat—"

"Don't try to move. You could still be really hurt." Patton drummed his hands on his knees as he tried to think of what to do. Logan would know—Logan!

"Logan!" Patton yelled. "Virgil's hurt, come see!"

"I don't know how much I could do," Logan said, but he sat next to Patton anyway. "Virgil, what happened? Does anything hurt?"

"My head," Virgil said. His breathing was labored and way too shallow. "Um—and I'm, um, kind of panicking, right now? So—could you—" Virgil pushed at thin air. "Get—back? I kind of want some space, I'm—"

"Oh! Of course!" Patton scooted back. "Is that better?"

"You too, Lo." Virgil winced. "Sorry, I just—it's all—"

"Completely understandable." Logan leaned away and tucked his hands behind his back. "Would you like me to run you through some breathing exercises?"

"I think I've got it." Virgil closed his eyes and breathed in and out. Patton recognized the pattern. 4-7-8. Over and over. And slowly, Virgil's shoulders relaxed. Patton hadn't realized how tense Virgil had looked until he was loosening up, bit by bit.

"I—" Virgil took one more breath. "Yeah, I think I'm okay now. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize!" Patton said. "I should have known this would be a lot to handle."

"Tell me about it." Virgil shuddered. "I thought I'd be alright, since most of them weren't actually dragons, but we're all trapped and it was really dark and small and I couldn't see anything and—"

"Virgil, you're going to spiral again." Logan's voice was soft. "How about you tell me how you feel physically? According to Patton, you're injured."

"It's not that bad," Virgil said. He reached up and felt the back of his head. His fingers came away bloody, but the blood was dry and dark. "It aches a little bit, but I can think straight. Well, as much as I ever can. 'M not straight."

Patton wasn't sure whether to count silly jokes as a sign of a concussion. He decided to err on the safe side. "Well, don't move for a little while still, okay? And don't fall asleep. Maybe we can wrap your head? Do you guys—"

"I got everything we've got," Remus said, appearing by Patton's shoulder with uncharacteristic suddenness. Patton didn't know Remus could move that quietly. "Candles, some extra food, Logan's other shirt, a wrench, a smaller wrench, something that Logan says is a carved bird but it looks more like an octopus that got stabbed—"

"Focus," Logan said wearily, but Patton noticed the little upwards tug of his mouth.

"Right. Right. Right." Remus extended one grubby hand. "This?"

Patton took it. It was a roll of paper, low-quality, and half of it was scribbled on already.

"It's not much," Remus said, probably seeing Patton's expression, "but Logan used up all the other paper when I got a bloody nose. So."

"I think I'm fine for now." Virgil looked between Remus and Logan. "Um, thanks, though. And it's—good to see you guys."

"I wish I could say the same." Logan's mouth twisted. "I'm glad you're alright, Virgil. Now why in the _world_ are you here?"

"Wait, was there another raid?" Remus' eyes widened. "Is Roman okay? He was hurt when we left—crap, _crap_ , is he okay?"

Patton wanted to say that he knew Roman was fine.

But he only knew that he _hoped_ Roman was fine. And if Janus proved anything, it's that Patton's hopes didn't translate to reality.

"I don't know," Patton admitted. "We, um—he was alright when we saw him last. He's got an injured shoulder."

"Oh." Remus sat down, running one hand along the cavern floor. "That's…good. I think."

"What happened?" Logan asked once again. Patton still didn't have an answer.

"We, um—" Virgil looked at Patton, either for help or encouragement. Patton nodded and tried to smile at Virgil encouragingly. He probably looked like he was grimacing instead because he couldn't remember how to smile properly.

"We came to help you guys," Virgil finished, cringing as he spoke, probably aware of the irony. "Um, as you can see, it didn't really go well."

"You came to—" Logan blinked a few times. " _What?"_

" _Why?"_ Remus exclaimed at the same time, much louder.

"Because we care about you!" Patton said, his protective friend instincts kicking in. "Why _wouldn't_ we try to help?"

"Because—" Remus flailed his arms wildly at everything around them. "Because you're not _stupid?"_

"I think what Remus is trying to say," Logan said, leaning over and placing a hand on Remus' back, "is that we have no idea how you would have tried to accomplish that without putting yourselves at risk."

"We, um, yeah." Patton took a deep steadying breath. It caught in his throat and now he was burning at the edges again, the seams under his eyes and the slices at the back of his throat all catching fire and aching. "We went through the Woods to try and—rescue you guys, I guess? It was—" Patton slumped all the way to the ground, sitting criss-cross-applesauce and staring at his feet. "It wasn't a good plan."

"Through the Woods? You mean the Iron Woods?" Remus' eyes lit up. "You _survived?_ Holy _heck_ , what's in there? Did you see any Faeries? Did you _smash_ any Faeries? I mean 'smash' like kill them, but also the other kind of smashing, I've heard they're really hot—"

"No," Virgil protested, snickering a bit. "Weirdo. But, um, yes."

"Yes to the smashing?"

"Yes to the seeing of Faeries." Virgil's eyes flickered over to Patton. Patton didn't bother to try and stop him. "We saw…a lot of stuff. Fought some of it. Fell off cliffs. It was a fun time."

"You…" Logan looked like someone had just told him the earth was flat. "Virgil, those woods are _incredibly_ dangerous. Entering them would be akin to jumping into an active volcano."

"Yeah, pretty much." Virgil shrugged. "It was Patton's idea anyway. I just tagged along."

Patton flushed as both Logan and Remus turned to look at him with varying degrees of incredulity. "Look," he protested, "it seemed like a good idea at the time—"

"I leave," Logan said, "for _two weeks_ and suddenly you're gallivanting into the _Iron Woods_ —"

"You didn't leave, you were _kidnapped!"_ Virgil snapped. "And forgive us for trying to _help_."

Logan pressed his lips together and looked away. Patton realized that both him and Remus looked drawn and pale. Remus was sporting eye bags that rivaled Virgil's, his hair even more of a rat's nest than usual, a scrape down the length of his jaw. Logan's tie was loose, there were several tears in his shirt, and when he shifted Patton noticed the edge of a purple bruise on his neck.

"You shouldn't have," Remus said. There was a note in there that Patton didn't recognize. Flat and sharp and two seconds away from breaking.

"Yeah, well too late _now_." Virgil sighed and let his head fall back onto the wall. "We were worried. We tried to rescue you. We got farther than we thought, but now we're here, and I guess it was all kind of pointless."

Patton tried to find a counterargument. He was the optimistic one, right? But nothing came to mind.

Logan glanced between them. "Virgil, if you're still feeling alright, we can move you to the bed. It might be more comfortable."

Virgil nodded and stood up. Patton reached out to steady him and Virgil brushed Patton off. He made his own way to the bed and sat on the edge. Patton, following, surreptitiously checked Virgil's injury. It was a little matted with blood but it didn't look super deep. Still, if it knocked him out for hours, it might have messed some stuff up. Patton wished they had a nurse. Or _anything_ , really. He wished he could see better in the dim candlelight, he wished they were still free and outside, he wished—

Patton cut himself off. His thoughts were skating the edge of that pit again, brushing up against the elephant in the room, and repression was bad but maybe he could just _ignore_ it for a little while longer until it hurt less to think about.

Virgil half-collapsed onto the bed. Logan sat by the headboard and grabbed a book, running his hands along it like it comforted him. Remus took a running leap and landed on the ladder, making the whole bed creak and shake. Two big steps and he was on the top bunk, poking his head over and letting his arms dangle, so close that Patton could reach over and push one. Maybe he would have, any other day. Today he just folded his hands in his lap and waited for someone to speak.

"If it's alright," Logan said, his voice barely audible over the dripping of the stalactites and the rustling of Remus above them, "I'd like to hear what's happened since we were—since we left."

"You or me?" Virgil asked, turning to Patton.

It should be Patton. It should _always_ be Patton. Patton needed to tell the story. Patton needed to save the day. Patton needed to help, to bear the burden. What good was he if he didn't?

"Go ahead, kiddo," Patton said weakly. Because he was still a coward.

So Virgil told the story instead. Quick and brusque and leaving out a million details. Patton could have chimed in. He could have said how brave Virgil was fighting the snake, the way they'd struggled up the first mountain, the beauty of the stars at night, telling stories around the fire, healing Ja—getting across the bridge. But Patton didn't add anything. He just sat there, like a useless lump, not even bothering to try and look interested.

Virgil didn't excise Janus from the story, which was nice and also _hurt_ because every time Patton heard the name his heart shifted out of position and pulled at his arteries and _stung_ like cold steel, the deepest pain he'd ever felt in his life.

Pathetic.

Logan asked questions. Remus asked dirty questions. Both of them exchanged looks when Virgil explained that Janus was the dragon they'd been fighting during the raid, but they kept their mouths shut, and Patton was grateful.

Virgil also excluded the bits about Patton's magic, maybe for Patton's sake, maybe because it didn't make much sense to Virgil because Patton hadn't ever talked about it in detail with Virgil because he'd done all his talking with Janus—

_Stupid._

"…so Remy showed up," Virgil continued, his voice remarkably calm. How could he talk about this so easily, like it was just another fairytale, a story where everyone got out okay? "He taunted us for a bit, said he was gonna get the others, and then—"

Patton's fists clenched.

_And then._

"And then…" Virgil's voice trailed off.

"And then what?" Remus asked, leaning even farther over the edge. His face was red and his eyes were excited. "Keep going, emo, this is the most exciting thing I've heard in weeks!"

"And then I don't know." Virgil's hand drifted to the back of his head. "I was talking to Janus, and then—I woke up here."

Patton swallowed.

Virgil looked confused now. Confused and scared. "I don't know—it wasn't—Patton? I don't remember—should I remember?"

"Probably not," Patton managed to say. His voice was raspy, like he'd been crying. But he hadn't, he'd just wanted to. "You got knocked out from behind."

"Who—"

Patton looked away again.

"He—" Virgil's voice broke. Virgil knew all along. Virgil _must_ have guessed. And Patton figured he'd be rejoicing, since Janus was finally proved the villain, since Virgil was proved right in what he'd been saying all along.

But when Patton looked up, Virgil's eyes were shining, his hand clutching at his sleeve and his mouth slightly open.

"He didn't," Virgil said, a weak protest against a truth that couldn't be erased.

Patton stifled a sob and managed a "Yeah."

"He—no." Virgil sat back on the bed. " _No_."

"You can't say you didn't see it coming," Patton echoed, his voice cracking in about seven different places. A smile spread across his face, _finally_ , except it was all wrong and painful and shaky and hurt so much to maintain except he couldn't stop. "We all saw it coming. He _said_ he was gonna, _you_ said he was gonna, I _knew_ he was gonna. And then—" Patton grinned wildly and made little jazz hands. "Yay! We were right!"

Virgil stared at Patton. "Did—what did he say?"

"He said—" Several rocks suddenly clogged up Patton's throat. He had to swallow hard to clear it. "He said it wasn't personal."

"Did…" Virgil bit his lip. "Did he say sorry?"

Patton shook his head.

Virgil swore. Remus swore in solidarity, or maybe because he just liked to swear.

"Pat, I—I'm sorry," Virgil finally said, placing a hand on Patton's shoulder. And Patton shook it off, because he was petty and selfish and not in the mood for comfort. "That's—I _hate_ him."

"No, you don't," Patton said, because Virgil didn't. If Virgil hated anyone right now, it'd be Patton, for disregarding Virgil's warnings and getting them all trapped.

"No, I don't." Virgil curled up a bit on the bed, still giving Patton an achingly sympathetic look. Patton wanted to yell at him. To _scream_ at him to _stop_. But the anger was strangely distant and all he could do was sit there, numb, knowing he was being pitied and knowing he didn't deserve it.

"I liked him," Virgil admitted, voice quiet. "And I'm—I'm mad. And upset. But…I didn't like him the way you did, so I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Patton said, deciding to focus on that instead of the liking part of things.

"I'm sorry on your behalf." Virgil scooted forward and reached out to touch Patton's knee. But he stopped himself. The hand hovered in the air, an unspoken invitation, and Patton didn't take it.

"I'm fine," Patton said, even though nobody had said he wasn't and he usually didn't like to lie.

"You're not." That was Logan, who'd been silent up until now, maybe sensing this wasn't his place to intervene. "You're not fine, and that's _fine_."

"You're upset." Virgil shook his head and exhaled. "He— _damn_ , Janus messed up. And he hurt you, and me. You're allowed—encouraged—to be upset about that."

"We all saw it coming," Patton insisted, aware that his sickening smile was finally falling off his face, trying vainly to scrounge it back up but everything was shifting loose and something nasty was boiling in his stomach. "I shouldn't be—"

"There's no _should_ here." And oh, that was so close to what Janus said, and another slice of pain wracked Patton's body. "C'mon. Let it out, Pat."

"I'm being _stupid!"_ Patton almost yelled, grabbing at himself, trying to force everything back in. "This is _stupid_ , I shouldn't _care_ , I should—I should be helping you guys instead of being upset—I shouldn't _care_ what he does! It doesn't _matter!_ I'm being _selfish!"_

"Oh, Pat." Virgil looked heartbroken, and there, that was Patton's fault, wasn't it? Everything was always Patton's fault, even though he tried so hard. It was never enough. He was never good enough, smart enough, kind enough, helpful enough, and he hurt everything around him because he was _bad_ and he was never going to get any better, no matter what Janus said—Janus was a liar and all he did was lie and he _promised_ but it didn't mean anything at all—

Patton choked on a sob.

" _Pat_." Virgil reached out again and Patton flinched away. "It doesn't matter that you _shouldn't_ care. You _do_."

"Yeah, and that's pretty stupid of me, isn't it?" Patton wiped at his eyes with one sleeve. "I _hate_ lying, and I _knew_ he was going to hurt us, and I just let him—I just let him! I just believed him because I _wanted_ to!"

"You're not the only one." Virgil was worrying his bottom lip now, and somewhere over Patton's shoulder, Logan was probably watching him too. And Remus. All eyes on Patton. Everyone watching him fall apart. This was all he'd worked to avoid and now here he was, weak and selfish and completely at the end of the line.

"For what it's worth," Virgil said softly, "Janus has a lot going on and he probably didn't have much of a choice and I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt here. He's…he's my friend. He's allowed to make mistakes, and to do stuff he isn't supposed to, and to be selfish sometimes. And to _feel_. He's _always_ allowed to feel."

Virgil wasn't talking about Janus anymore.

Which made sense, because Patton hadn't really been talking about Janus, either.

"It's okay," Virgil said, and he was so _kind_ and what had Patton done to deserve him? "Cry. Scream. Let it out. Everything's kind of messed up, you got hurt, and it's not _selfish_ to need help once in a while."

"I—I'm not supposed to—" Patton wiped at his eyes again. It was futile. Tears were clinging to his lashes, ready to fall, ready to burn their way down his cheeks and break him open. "I'm s'pposed to _help_ , I can't—I don't wanna be—"

"Be what?" Virgil asked.

Patton shook his head.

"You know what you are?" Virgil smiled a bit. "You're Patton. My brother. You're not perfect, and no one is, and that doesn't make you any less worthy of love."

Patton pressed his hands to his mouth.

"So c'mon. Let me help." Virgil opened his arms. "I, um, if you want."

"He—" Patton took a deep breath and everything broke. "He _promised_. He promised he wouldn't hurt us."

And Patton fell into Virgil's arms, curling up against his chest and crying.

"He _promised!"_ Patton choked out between sobs. "He—I thought I could—"

"I know. I know." Virgil's hand came up and rubbed between Patton's shoulderblades. A familiar move. Patton had done it to Virgil so many times. "Yeah, Pat, I know."

And Patton felt, somehow, that Virgil did. So he didn't try to talk again. He just kept crying, rough and hitching and ugly and painful, hands locked around Virgil's back like if he'd move Virgil would take it all back and he'd be left alone again—

A hand settled on his leg. It was tapping rhythmically. Not 4-7-8. Just a simple rhythm, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-tap. Patton felt it shudder through his skin and he whined, burying his face in Virgil's shoulder, everything too warm and too painful but also so relaxing. He was _tired_. He was _upset_. And he didn't even have to try and hide it.

Another hand buried itself in his hair and floofed it around. Patton recognized that move, too. It was what he always did to Remus—stuck his hand in Remus' curls and scratched at his scalp until Remus practically purred. This hand was clumsy and a little uncoordinated but steady and oddly comforting.

Warmth all around him. The fire inside was dimming to a small candle flame. The tears dripping down his face and wetting his shirt weren't scalding anymore. They almost felt cold. Like rainfall.

And through it all was Virgil. "It's okay," Virgil was saying. "It's okay, breathe, you're doing great."

Patton's old mantra.

Patton was suddenly reminded of holding Virgil on a similar bed, a long time ago, when it was Virgil whose tears were coursing down his face, and now here he was. In the exact same position as Virgil had been. Feeling so weak and vulnerable and selfish and—and _upset_. Except—except Virgil had been upset too, and Virgil had gotten comfort too, and _that_ was okay, and Patton was supposed to be the one who helped but Virgil was helping him now and that was okay _too_ , and everything ached and was confusing and he just wanted to go _home_.

"I'm sorry," Patton whispered.

"Dunno why you're saying that."

"I—I don't know." He didn't. But he felt, strongly, that he _should_.

Then again, shoulds were what Virgil and Janus both said he would be better off avoiding.

And they were the smartest people Patton knew.

"I'm…" Patton tried out the words in his head, then out loud. "I'm not sorry?"

"No, you're not." The smile was clear in Virgil's voice. "And don't you ever forget it."

Patton smiled, just a little, into Virgil's shoulder. Virgil probably couldn't see it. But it wasn't for Virgil.

"You're good at this," Patton mumbled as Virgil reached up and ran his thumb over the nape of Patton's neck.

"Learned from the best." Virgil cupped Patton's chin and delicately pulled his face up. Patton blinked. His glasses were smudged with tears and he probably looked a mess, but Virgil just smiled like he'd seen the best thing in the universe. "There you are. It's late. Maybe you should get some sleep."

Patton frowned. "Don't wanna—"

"Let go?" Virgil huffed. "We'll sleep together, right? You like that."

"But Logan—"

"I'll join Remus on the top bunk," Logan said, and with a swing of legs he was gone. Remus lingered, giving Virgil a meaningful look and Patton a final pat on the head.

"Goodnight," Remus said. "I guess. Even though we're basically nocturnal now and also I was planning on trying to make a spear out of old sticks—"

"Remus," Logan called.

"Fine, I'm coming, spoilsport!"

Virgil laughed a little as Remus swung up to the top bunk. The bed creaked dangerously but didn't fall over, which was good. There were a few murmurs from Remus and Logan before they fell into silence. Virgil reached for the oil lamp and blew it out. The few bits of the cavern that Patton could see disappeared into the shadows. He shivered. He suddenly felt very alone.

"Come on." Virgil tugged Patton down and Patton curled up on the bed. There was only a thin blanket between them and the mattress, but it felt almost ridiculously comfortable after nights of sleeping on the ground. Patton hummed and twisted closer to Virgil, who wrapped his arms around Patton's back and pulled Patton toward his chest.

Patton was tired and aching and wrung out. But he felt like there was something else important he was forgetting.

"Virgil?" he asked.

"Yeah?" Virgil murmured.

"Um…you said—you called me—" Patton's voice dipped even quieter. "You're my brother?"

"Oh." Patton couldn't see Virgil, but he could feel him tense. "It was—it was nothing, if it makes you uncomfortable I'll stop—"

"No!" Patton said. "I just—why? I mean, not _why_ , that sounds bad, I'm just curious—"

"Because you're my family." Virgil said it like it was simple. "And it's really no big deal if you don't want—"

"Virgil." Patton slipped his hand into Virgil's. "I meant why didn't you say it sooner? Was it upsetting you?"

"No," Virgil said. "Not really. I just, well, I know you _say_ I'm part of the family, and I am, but sometimes it feels like I don't belong when you call me your—"

"Best friend." Patton's mouth fell open. "Oh, I didn't even realize—I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine! Really!" Virgil shifted. "I get why you'd be wary of calling me that, it's kind of weird—"

"It's not weird," Patton said vehemently. "I—I would have called you my brother before, if I knew—Virgil, you _are_ my brother. You're my _family_. And I'm sorry I never said so, I just—" Patton took a deep, shuddering breath. "I didn't want you to feel like I was replacing anyone."

"Oh," Virgil said softly.

"Yeah."

"Pat—" Virgil chuckled a little. "Pat, you could never _replace_ anyone. I've got room enough for two families. Past doesn't define my present. And, um—" Virgil hesitated. "My family would have loved you. Just like I do."

Patton found himself grinning wildly into the darkness. "I love you too," he whispered. "I love you so much and I'm so, _so_ proud to be your brother."

Virgil made a little noise that sounded like he was crying. Patton decided not to comment.

"Go to sleep, Pat," Virgil finally whispered, his voice achingly fond.

"You first," Patton mumbled, already drifting off.

"No you."

"Only if you do," Patton said. "Sleep tight, little brother."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite." Virgil reached over and took off Patton's glasses. "Big bro."

Patton closed his eyes and settled into sleep. And Virgil held Patton close, and when he was in a little cozy ball under the blankets, Patton found the dark wasn't that scary at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> patton deserves a hug okay


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: discussions of death and murder, remus being remus

The bedframe creaked around Patton and he opened one eye, finding it sticky and reluctant to focus. He opened his other one and tried to shift around to find his glasses. Something warm and heavy kept him in place. He blinked at the lump securing him to the bed. Virgil. His bangs were fluttering with every breath and his sweatshirt was bunched around his elbows.

The bed shifted again and someone hit the stone with a gentle thud. Patton swatted around wildly for his glasses.

"Go to sleep, Patton."

That was Logan's voice.

"Logan?" Patton asked anyway, because confirmation was important. "Whatcha doing?"

"Be quiet," Logan hissed, apparently having slipped out of bed. "Go back to sleep or you'll wake Remus—"

A loud "What?" followed his sentence, and Patton was reminded of Remus' uncanny ability to tell when people were talking to him.

Patton looked around more and finally found his glasses. He put them on just as Remus took a flying leap off the bunk bed, landing somewhat gracefully and straightening up to give Logan a glare.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked, though he sounded like he already knew the answer.

Logan rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"C'mon, nerd, we agreed." Remus folded his arms. "My shift today. Go back to sleep, you look like a corpse."

"You're not exactly the pinnacle of beauty yourself," Logan snapped back. "Stay with Patton and Virgil—they'll need someone to help them out this morning. I promise I'll be back soon."

"Yeah, that means jack-all and you know it! You'll probably be busy 'til next sunrise." Remus waved a hand at Patton, who was still trying to figure out what was happening and whether he should intervene. "Plus, you're the best at lovey-dovey friendship stuff, and the schedule says it's _my_ turn, so get back in that bunk bed before I rip your toes off and shove them down your throat."

Logan didn't even cringe at the image. Patton did. "I'm going," Logan simply said, walking away. "If there's an emergency, I'll probably be down near Anton's room. Show Patton and Virgil around, get a few hours of sleep for goodness' sake, and I'll try to make it back for lunch as long as there isn't too much blood this time."

"Specs, get back here—it's my turn!"

"I'm overruling you!" Logan grabbed a few miscellaneous instruments by the side of the wall. "Besides, you took an extra day for me!"

"Yeah, 'cause you twisted your ankle, remember? In case it slipped past your eyeballs, I'm _fine!"_

"Be fine in bed and not working, then." Logan's expression softened for just a second. "Please. I—I'm not quite sure what to do right now, with Patton and Virgil and everything else, so please let me help you here."

Remus sighed and swore, which Logan seemed to take as reluctant agreement. Logan smiled and waved before disappearing into the darkness. Patton noticed he was almost silent on the stones, just like a dragon—Logan had never been extremely loud, but now he was whisper-quiet, a flash of movement and a twist of shadows and then gone.

Remus swore again, shrugged, and took the ladder two at a time. There was a loud groan of protest from the bed as he flopped onto it. His feet dangled over the side, and from his occasional mutterings, Patton knew that he hadn't taken Logan's advice and gone to sleep.

Patton bit his lip and looked down at Virgil, still latched onto Patton like a barnacle, the little cuddler. Slowly, he eased his way out of Virgil's grip. Virgil muttered and shifted in his sleep, but he didn't look too distressed, and hopefully this would be quick.

Patton walked over to the ladder, cringing when he noticed a stain that he hoped was jam and not blood. Remus was lying on the bunk bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hi," Patton said softly.

"Hmm?" Remus sat upright, clocked his head on the ceiling, and grinned as if it hadn't hurt at all. "Crabby Patty! How're you doing?"

"I'm alright," Patton said, his stomach twisting a little when he remembered that the last time they'd talked, Patton had started sobbing into Virgil's shoulder. And the time before that…under the Liberty Tree, the town burning around them, wondering where Roman was.

"Anything you need?" Remus looked around. "I dunno what time it is? Probably early morning. Thanks to you guys, the whole night got mussed up for all the dragons. You should sleep."

"So should you," Patton chided. "Logan's right—you should catch another few hours."

"Eh, what does he know? I'm not that tired." Remus paused. "Oh. Wait. You heard us?"

"Hard to miss." Patton shifted from foot to foot, considering his options. "Um…can I come up there?"

"Sure!" Remus said easily, shifting to the side. Patton wobbled his way to the top of the ladder, feeling pretty unstable, like the whole thing might collapse underneath him. Remus must have noticed his worried expression, because he scoffed and said "This thing's not as weak as it seems. I jumped on it for like three hours in a row and it held up."

Mildly assuaged, Patton made his way to the top and curled up by the foot of the bed. Stalactites scraped his shoulders. He reached out and touched one—wet, cold stone, gray and rough in his hands.

"So," Remus said, making a few popping noises and dangling one leg over the side. "What's updog, hot dog?"

"Not much," Patton said. From his vantage point, he could see the whole cavern. There wasn't much of it. A few books were stacked against the wall, all of them stained. A tarnished sword with no sheath was balanced by the entranceway. Someone's underwear was tossed around a stalagmite and someone else had left old chicken bones in a small puddle of what Patton really hoped wasn't acid.

"'S not much," Remus said, following Patton's gaze. "But it's not bad. Bigger than the room I had with Roman. And Specs keeps his stuff out of the way—well, the stuff he _has_."

"He left," Patton said, turning to Remus.

"It's nothing personal," Remus said. Patton flinched, but Remus didn't seem to notice. "We've both got work to do. He's breaking the schedule, though, the stupid nipple-sucker."

"The schedule?" Patton asked, choosing to ignore the final bit of that sentence.

"I gotta admit it means zilch." Remus settled into his end of the bed even more. "We try to alternate who does more work on which days, except usually we _both_ end up getting roped into it, so it's really just for show. Still." Remus looked annoyed again. "The butt's all about rules and I get nervous when he's not here."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Patton reassured Remus, except it was a complete and total lie.

"Yeah," Remus muttered, unconvinced.

"What do you guys do?" Patton asked, tucking his head between his knees.

"Loads of stuff!" Remus perked up. "Sometimes we clean up blood! And dead stuff!"

Patton jerked back, eyes wide in horror.

"But not usually," Remus amended. "We distribute food sometimes? Patrol some of the hallways, clean up any dead animals—or dead dragons—and basically do whatever they ask. Keiran lost their sweater the other day and we spent five hours trying to find it."

Patton bit his lip. "Dead dragons?"

"Yeah." Remus looked almost regretful, which was weird, because usually he loved talking about dead things. "Hierarchy stuff. They're at each other's throats half the time. I think the last one was Amila? She got sick, and it turned out she'd stolen someone else's stuff, and the next thing anyone knew—" Remus slammed one hand into the other. "Huge mess. Logan threw up. There are scuffles all the time. Mara's in charge right now, and Emile's her second, but that might change by noon if she slips up. They've got this whole 'cut off sick branches to protect the tree' thing. If you're not helpful, if you're _weak_ , they're not gonna keep you around."

Patton swallowed once, twice, three times. The lump in his throat didn't go away. "Um—so—who else is here? Do you guys know any dragons?"

"We've got a pretty good understanding, yeah." Remus held up some fingers. "There's Natasha—Esmerelda—Jacob—Zakarias—Olympia—Lee, then Hermes—Na'Jai—Catelyn—Alyssa—Anton—Remy—Toby, Emile, Estella, Pryce, Karis, Vanessa, Ozzy, Madeleine, Jay, Lilyanne, Kota, Hal, Percy, and…" Remus shrugged. "And the Js—the little kids. Don't remember their names 'cause they're not that important. I think one of them is an Isabelle."

"Huh." Patton raised his eyebrows. "That's really neat, kiddo! Good memory!"

"Well, we gotta remember, right?" Remus shrugged. "I think Lee, Catelyn, Pryce and Madeleine are allies right now, but Jacob had a fight with Percy, and Percy and Pryce owe each other after a scuffle with Kota, so Jacob's up against them but he's got Vanessa and Anton and Karis—no, wait, Karis traded dinner for a week of favors with Na'Jai and Natasha, so Karis is on their side—and of course Olympia and Hal have hated each other for years, and everyone hates Estella and Estella hates everyone, and everyone kind of hates Emile because Mara likes him, even though Emile's a nice guy. Well, Remy likes Emile alright, I think. It's hard to tell with Remy."

Patton's eyebrows rose even higher. "Wow!"

"Like I said, we gotta remember." Remus rubbed at his arm. "Kiss up to the wrong dude and it'll be our guts we'll have to clean up."

Patton shivered.

"It's fine, though," Remus said, sounding like it wasn't really that fine. "Lo and I look out for each other. And it hasn't gotten too bad so far—just a few bumps and bruises. Some of them are even pretty nice."

"That sounds really terrible," Patton admitted.

"Not like we've got a choice." Remus bit his lip. "I thought it'd be worse, honestly."

"Still, I'm…sorry." Patton stared at his lap. "I'm sorry we couldn't have helped, I'm sorry our rescue mission was a complete disaster, and I'm sorry we let you get kidnapped."

"You didn't _let_ us!" Remus snorted. "I am very awesome, very sexy, and loved by all! Of course they wanted me! So if you'd tried to help, it could have been _you_ here instead!"

"It is _now_ ," Patton pointed out. "Because I _did_ try."

"You did, and…thanks. I—that was cool of you." Remus flashed a brief smile at Patton. "It's the thought that counts."

"Doubtful," Patton said.

"Anyway." Remus waved his arms around at the cave. "Casa de Remus and the lame-o nerd. We've made it this far, so I think we'll be alright."

"From personal experience," Patton said sheepishly, "that's not how this works."

"Whatever!" Remus declared. "We're here now, life is oh-so-wonderful, and if anyone lays a _hand_ on Logan, I'll punch them so hard their insides become outsides!"

Patton resisted the urge to say _ew_. Instead, he smiled. "Logan's lucky to have you."

"I—er—yeah." Remus flushed and scratched at the back of his neck. "Sure. Gotta look out for the dork, right? He's brainy but not the best fighter."

"I'm sure he's looking out for you, too." Patton glanced at the archway. "It sounds like he is in more ways than one, if he's taking your shift."

"Yeah, he's…he's nice. Protective." Remus laughed to himself. "Estella grabbed my shoulder and Logan flipped _out_ at her. It was kind of awesome."

"Really?" Patton leaned forward. "What happened?"

"See, I was being my awesome self," Remus began, his eyes sparkling with the delight of telling a story. "And I'm so awesome that everyone wants a piece of this booty, y'know? And Logan was there too I guess. And since Estella had decided that the person she hated that day was Hermes, she basically went out of her way to be a real pain-in-the-butthole to him at all times. And he'd told us to find something he'd lost, which Ozzy ended up having because of _course_ he did, and Estella basically tried to force us into helping her instead!" Remus laughed a bit. "And she's intimidating. She's no Mara, but she gets the blood pumping! Except Hermes would be pissed out of his balls if we just dropped the ball on finding his stuff, so we were trying to shake her off all polite except I'm not good at being polite so I _might_ have called her a stuck-up spleen-smelling cowbagger."

Patton blinked a few times. "I thought Estella was intimidating."

"She is! But I don't _really_ think before I spit stuff out." Remus shrugged sheepishly. "I thought she'd take it as a compliment? Like she seriously has to be _trying_ to be such a jerk, right? But no, she got all huffy and narrow-eyed and said she was gonna tear my bones apart at the joints—great threat, by the way, I used it later when Logan stole my socks—and she grabbed my shoulder and squeezed really hard and Logan jumped over and wrenched her hand off me and said she was being ridiculous and she couldn't hope to ever accomplish anything with that kind of hair-string temper and if she touched me again he'd make sure he never helped her as long as she lived." Remus' face was now sporting a loopy grin. "It was _awesome_."

"It sounds like it," Patton agreed, smiling at how excited Remus seemed. "Then what happened?"

The grin fell off Remus' face. "She kicked him into a wall."

" _What?"_

"Yeah." Remus sucked in a breath. "Not fun."

Patton curled a little tighter on the bed. "That's _horrible_."

"So I've heard." Remus looked down at his feet. "I…I should go to bed. Unless you've got any other questions?"

"Um—" Patton did have one, in fact, but he was afraid of the answer. "Do…do you any dragons named Janus?"

"Janus," Remus repeated. "The one who helped you guys? Yellow boy?"

"Yeah," Patton almost sighed. "Him."

"I've never met him, duh, but I think I've heard of him?" Remus scrunched his face up. "Eenie meeny miney more, where've I heard that name before? I think some dragons were talking about him on our first or second day! I don't remember much—Specs and I spent most of the day freaking out in our own special ways, me trying to stab the walls and him getting through seventeen hundred digits of pi—but I _think_ it was Janus they were talking about. It could've been someone else, but they were mentioning that he'd gone missing, so I think it's the right dude."

"What did they say?" Patton asked. He probably looked ridiculously invested, but he didn't care. "How…how did they sound?"

"Bored." Remus gave Patton an almost pitying look. "Don't think they gave much of a crap, Patty Wanna Cracker. Like I said. You're weak, you're out. And nobody cares much about any of the Js. I think maybe Anton and Alyssa were arguing over who got his cave. After that? Nothing. They probably forgot about him altogether."

"Oh," Patton said softly. Janus had said that nobody would care if he was gone, and Remy had certainly seemed less than overjoyed to see Janus back, but it hadn't really hit him until now. That just seemed wrong. Janus was a lot of things, but forgettable wasn't one of them. He'd managed to make such a lasting impact on Patton in just a week. And yet the dragons he'd lived with his whole life only cared about who got his room.

Fire burned in Patton's chest. That was _wrong_. That was _mean_. Janus deserved better—

Even though Janus had clearly chosen their side anyway.

The fire sputtered weakly and went out, leaving Patton cold again. Cold and alone, surrounded by dark hallways, no escape in sight.

"Hey," Remus said almost softly, "for what it's worth, that's sucky, what happened. Sounds like he's a dipwad and doesn't know what he's missing. And…it sounds like he didn't have much of a choice—I totally get not wanting to get on anyone's bad side. I'd risk it for Logan, but not all of us are as brave and awesome and maybe a little stupid as I am."

Patton's hands curled in his lap. "I would have done it for him."

Remus was silent.

"I _did_. And _he_ did." Patton almost laughed. "He made a deal with a Fae for us. He caught us falling off a cliff. He dove in to save me in the lake—well, Virgil pushed him, but he grabbed me anyway. And he went back for me on the bridge, and he told me I wasn't a bad person, and he didn't ask me questions when I didn't want them, and—" Patton took a shuddering breath. "He risked his life for us. So—so why's this different? Because this was what he wanted all along? Because he wanted to save us so he could rub his revenge in our faces?"

Remus paused and shook his head. "Doubt it. I mean, I don't know the guy personally, but you don't get attached to complete a-holes, Patty. You're smarter than that. So…I think he just panicked. He was scared and he didn't want to get hurt, so he through you under the bus. I don't respect that, but I get it."

"What makes now different, though?" Patton looked up at Remus, searching his face, fumbling for answers. "We've made it through a million things together. Why'd he turn on us _now?"_

"The way I see it," Remus said slowly, "there are three options. One, he just wanted variety. It's the spice of life and all that, and doing the same thing over and over is pretty boring, so maybe he wanted to add in some juicy stuff. But unfortunately not everyone thinks like me, so—option two. You're right and he was just waiting to betray you. Or option three—like I said, he was scared." Remus looked intently at Patton. "Risking your life is one thing. Especially when saving your friend means saving your own hide, too, that's easy stuff. It's a lot harder to risk abandonment. To turn against the people who _raised_ you? That takes guts, and not everyone's got them, especially when the situation is this rough."

"He still had a choice," Patton pleaded.

"'Course he did. I'm not saying he didn't. I'm saying he probably _thought_ he didn't." Remus leaned back and shrugged. "But hey, what do I know? Maybe he was secretly plotting your demise all along. I'm not an expert. I just work here."

"Did I…" Patton twisted his hands. "I feel like I could have—stopped this. Maybe if I just said the right thing, or helped at the right time…he'd have made a different choice."

"You can't live someone's life for them, Patisserie." Remus clicked his tongue. "He's got his own stuff and you've got yours, and it's all in the past anyways so who gives a flying fart? All you can do now is hang and do your best. If Janny wants to, he'll be back. And if he doesn't? Don't take it personally. Sometimes, people really just can't be helped."

Patton pressed his lips together.

"Come on, I think we both need some sleep." Remus kicked at Patton's knee gently. "Go cuddle with your bro, I'll be here if something starts bleeding."

Patton nodded and slipped back down the ladder. Virgil was still curled up on the bed, eyes closed. Patton wriggled his way back under the blanket and tucked his arm over Virgil. Usually, Virgil would have shifted. But he was stiff—stiff in the way of someone pretending to be asleep.

"You heard that," Patton said with a smile, "didn't you?"

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," Virgil said sheepishly, dropping the act.

"It's no problem." Patton snuggled in closer to Virgil. "Sorry for waking you up."

And that was it. Virgil didn't ask about Janus and Patton didn't tell. Patton could have felt guilty about that, but he didn't. He was sleepy and he really didn't want to think about it, and he didn't owe an explanation, and Virgil didn't push for one.

They'd figure it out later. For now, they had a few hours before sunrise.

Breakfast was several bits of unidentified meat and some grass. Patton purposely kept away from the meat and chewed on some of the grass instead. It tasted like nothing except disgusting. It was a good thing his stomach was churning too much to eat, or he'd probably be starving.

After breakfast, Patton checked Virgil's head and they took inventory. The dragons had taken their knapsacks and Virgil's crossbow, which Virgil was clearly upset about. That left them with a grand total of some lint in Patton's pocket, a few leaves stuck in the underside of Virgil's hood, and the knickknacks Remus and Logan had stored in their cave.

Great.

Out of curiosity, Patton tiptoed over to the entrance. A few fires flickered further down and he spotted some more caves and tunnels, but the path twisted around and disappeared from view. Patton walked a little further out, glancing back to make sure the cave hadn't vanished. It was still there, glowing, with Remus and Virgil frowning at him.

Patton turned back around and squinted into the darkness. Maybe there was a map of this place? Or maybe he could get to the end if he stuck one hand on the side of the wall. No, that was for mazes. If he knew what direction he was facing, maybe he could try and find his way to the edge of the mountain. Or maybe not. Because from what he could see, the paths twisted so much he might just get turned around in circles.

He wished there was a path he could follow here—a place to step and a place to avoid.

He wished he had a _plan_.

Patton stepped a little further, trying not to slip on the wet rocks, steadying himself with one hand on the wall.

"What are you doing?"

Patton squeaked and scooted backwards, tripped over a rock, and fell on his butt. A dragon with a long braid tossed over their shoulder and flinty gray eyes watched him with no amusement.

"I was—" Patton waved a hand at himself, the tunnel, and the cave behind him. "Hi."

The dragon sighed and pointed behind Patton. "Get back inside."

Patton dutifully scooted back into the archway.

"Ugh." The dragon rolled their eyes and turned away. "Can't wait 'til you're doing something useful instead of getting underfoot."

Patton decided not to comment. He just stumbled to his feet and dashed back into the cave until he couldn't see outside the archway anymore. No dragons, no darkness, just Remus and Virgil looking at him with concern.

"You shouldn't have gone out there," Remus muttered, gnawing at the end of something Patton decided to believe was a chicken bone.

"I know that _now_." Patton sat at the foot of the bed. "You could have said something," he added, probably sounding petulant but finding he didn't care much.

Remus shrugged. "Didn't want to call attention to myself."

That was…new. Remus always wanted to call attention to himself.

"Besides, you learn by experience." Remus chucked the bone at a wall. "Where's the nerd?"

"I…" Patton frowned. "Am I supposed to know the answer?"

"Nah, just wanted to ask the world at large." Remus glanced at the archway. "He should be back by now."

"No? He shouldn't?" Virgil stared at Remus. "He said he'd be back by lunch!"

"I know." Remus shifted a few times, back and forth, before jumping to his feet. "I'm gonna go find him—"

"Wait, are you kidding?" Virgil's eyes widened. "You can't leave us here—where are you even going?"

"No idea!" Remus grinned and headed for the entrance. "Be back maybe!"

"Remus," Patton said softly. "I don't want you to leave."

Remus paused and Patton winced, waiting for a comment about how selfish he was being.

"I—" Remus looked back. "I'll wait. But if he doesn't show up, I'm going."

Patton smiled a little bit. And Remus walked back over, flopped on the bed, and started to hum a song Patton recognized as one of Roman's favorites.

They fell into silence. Virgil stared off into the distance, Patton watched the entrance, and Remus hummed his way through every song Patton knew and a few he didn't. As time passed, Patton noticed Remus getting antsier and antsier, sometimes trailing off mid-note and rubbing at his arms. He was going to say something, but before he did, Virgil did.

"We need to think of an escape plan," Virgil said.

Patton blinked a few times. "Um, sure! Any ideas?"

"No," Virgil admitted. "I hoped you had some."

"Alrighty, then." Patton straightened and motioned for Remus to join. "No time like the present! Remus, do you know your way around here?"

"Kind of?" Remus chewed on his lip. "We basically go wherever we need to, and they shepherd us back to our rooms if we get in the way. Plus Emile is pretty helpful, and he's around most of the time, so we can ask and he'll direct us."

"Emile?" Patton asked. "Do…do you think he'd be able to help?"

"Mara wouldn't let him. So no."

"Oh." Patton pouted and slumped against the bed. "Mara seems like—a real b-hole."

"Tell me about it," Remus agreed. "If you wanna escape, it's best to avoid her. Period, done, end of discussion."

"Hold on." Virgil frowned. "If _we_ want to escape? You're coming with, Re."

Remus blinked a few times. "I…what?"

"You're coming too," Patton said, leaning forward. "Right? We came all this way to rescue—I mean, not that you're obligated to—I just figured—"

Remus blinked a few more times.

"Is that okay?" Patton ended up asking.

"You could get hurt," Remus blurted out. "You could get all your limbs chopped off or your eyeballs stuck in a cheese grater or your brain made into scrambled eggs and slurped up through a straw or—"

"First of all, ew. Second of all—I can't believe _I'm_ the one saying this—unlikely." Virgil shrugged and gave Remus a crooked smile. "Look, we're trying to bust out of here no matter what. So tag along. Four heads are better than two."

"We'll be harder to hide," Remus warned.

Patton grinned. "Hiding isn't the plan."

A slow smile grew over Remus' face. "I'm listening."

"What's the plan?" Virgil asked.

"I don't know," Patton said, "but it won't include hiding, I guess? I don't know why you thought there was a plan. I'm not good with plans."

Virgil sighed. "Letdown. Well, I'm not good with plans either, and Re once swore to me that if he distracted the dude at the stand with a goat, I could steal one of the peaches—"

"Hey, it's not my fault goats are really hard to control—"

"—so we're basically doomed." Virgil waved a hand. "Got it. That's nothing new."

"We're not," Patton said weakly. "We're just…maybe we'll just have to improvise instead."

"Or find someone good with plans," Remus said.

"Logan's pretty smart." Virgil laughed. "And Janus'd probably get us out, but he'd complain the whole time, so—"

Virgil's voice trailed off.

"Except he's not an option," Virgil finally said, his voice dull. "So all we've got is L, I guess."

"Who's not _back_ yet." Remus clenched his fists and swung them back and forth. "If he doesn't show up in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna go find him and drag him butt-first back here—"

"Yeah, he'll totally show up," Virgil said drily. "That's how the world works. Telekinesis by gay desperation." Virgil sighed. "He's not here yet, Re. Be patient."

"Patient is the exact opposite of my middle name—"

"How can you have an _opposite_ of a name—"

Patton glanced to the arch again and broke into a wide grin.

"Guys!" he said. "Look!"

Virgil looked up and smiled. "Guess telekinesis was just delayed."

"Good to see you too," Logan said, slipping into the room with a weary smile.

Remus squealed and clapped his hands, jumping up and running over. He checked Logan up and down with narrowed eyes. "All parts intact?"

"Every limb accounted for." Logan gave Remus a fond, exasperated look. "Let me sit down, Remus, I haven't had breakfast yet."

"Right! Right!" Remus shepherded Logan to a spot on the floor and tossed him some chicken bones. "You alright? Thirsty? Sleepy? I'm really happy to see you!"

"I was gone for three hours."

"More like eternity!" Remus groaned and flopped dramatically on the ground like a jellyfish. "Stuck with only these losers for company—"

"Hey!" Virgil complained.

"—but now you're here! With all your limbs! So we're good." Remus yanked his neck up and watched Logan carefully. "So what did you do?"

"Cleaned, mostly. Some acid leaked into a cave downstairs and I had to figure out how to get it out." Logan polished off the chicken and leaned back. "Then I ran a few errands. Actually, I have another errand or two to do, so I should be going."

"What?" Remus' eyes narrowed. "Why'd you stop here, then?"

"I was hungry," Logan said. "Besides, I know you get nervous when I'm away for too long, and I was passing by. It was only logical."

Remus' eyes narrowed even further until they were just suspicious slits. "Where is it."

"Where is what?" Logan asked, but Patton noticed the way his grip tightened on the bed.

"Show me." Remus hopped up and walked towards Logan. "Now."

Logan held out for a second longer before sighing and rolling up his sleeve. Patton gasped and Virgil swore. A long cut slashed across his upper arm and curled into his elbow, half-dried blood crusted on the edges, a bit of dirt smeared beneath.

"Who the—" Remus' eyes were on fire. "Who did that?"

"No one did," Logan admitted. "I just tripped. It's dark and the rock wasn't where I expected it to be."

Remus sighed and stood up. "Where're the stupid bandages?"

"We don't have any." Logan rolled his sleeve back down with barely a wince and stood up. "It was a mistake coming here, I'll go—"

"Sit. Back. Down." Remus glared at Logan until Logan sat down again. "I'll go cover for you. Don't move. Patpitation and Virgilicious, keep an eye on him and try and clean that cut. Where did you say you needed to go?"

"I didn't." Logan sighed. "Zakarias. Plus some errand by the east face? I don't know who it was."

"Got it!" Remus trotted over. "Be right back!"

"Remus," Logan called weakly, but Remus was already gone. Logan swore and pulled up his sleeve again, inspecting the cut with a frown.

"Can I help?" Virgil asked, walking over.

"There's not much to do about it." Logan rubbed at the cut until most of the blood was on his sleeve instead. From the hard set of his jaw, it hurt. "It'll heal soon."

"Pat, you're good with heal-y stuff." Virgil ushered Patton to Logan's side. "Please say you know what to do."

"I do, but we don't have many resources," Patton said. "Or, actually, _any_. Do you guys even have any water?"

"There's a spring by the west face, we usually stop by there." Logan chuckled to himself. "Or you can use the acid pools, if you'd like to lose your entire arm along with the cut."

Patton looked at the acid pools beneath the stalactites and cringed.

Then he looked at the stalactites themselves.

The damp stalactites.

Which he'd touched without incident, which meant—

Patton grinned. He walked over and touched one, water coming away from his fingers. "Hey, Lo?"

"Yes, Patton?"

"Come on over here."

He spent the next ten minutes carefully cleaning Logan's arm. Logan only flinched a few times and each flinch was tiny, so Patton kept having to ask whether it hurt too much or not. He was reminded, painfully, of helping Janus—forcing Janus to admit where he was hurt, because if Patton didn't push the issue, Janus would just keep his mouth shut.

A lot of things made sense now.

"So," Logan finally said in what was clearly a feeble attempt at conversation. "How was your morning?"

"It was alright," Virgil said. "We were talking about escape plans."

"Ah. That's not surprising." Patton let go of Logan's arm and Logan flexed it experimentally. He smiled a bit. "Thank you, Patton. That's much better."

"No problem!" Patton sat back and wiped off his hands. "Remus was saying that you guys don't really know the way around?"

" _He_ doesn't," Logan said. "I'm beginning to get a handle on it. However, there are still areas I haven't explored, and—" Logan looked at his arm and winced. "—the terrain still takes me by surprise sometimes."

"So…" Patton smiled sheepishly. "You _don't_ have a genius plan to get us out of here?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Great," Virgil muttered. "I wasn't hopeful and I'm _still_ disappointed."

"Virgil," Patton chided. "Just because we don't have a plan _yet_ doesn't mean one can't _exist_."

"I hate to sound like a defeatist," Logan said slowly, "but Remus and I _have_ tried to escape. Several times."

"Oh." Patton blinked. "Remus didn't tell us about that."

"He was probably trying to forget about them." Logan grimaced. "Quite honestly, I don't blame him—they did _not_ go well."

"Did you try _every_ plan?" Virgil asked, sounding more interested in hearing the embarrassing stories than finding a real plan. "Did you do that plan where you try to impersonate one of your kidnappers?"

Logan groaned and covered his face. "Maybe."

"Wait, _seriously?"_ Virgil's smirk grew wider. "I was _kidding_ —you actually tried to—"

"It was Remus' idea!" Logan sighed. "And we were desperate."

"Look," Patton said, trying to force the conversation back on track. "Just because you guys tried and failed doesn't mean it's not possible! If you don't succeed, try, try again! And you didn't have us before, did you?"

"Patton," Virgil said slowly, "I appreciate your optimism, but I fail to see what _exactly_ the two of us are bringing to the table."

"Moral support?"

"In fairness," Logan said, "there is safety in numbers and there's no downside from having more people to brainstorm and carry out a plan—"

"Unless you're trying to be sneaky." Virgil folded his arms and stared at the ground. "I—I dunno, guys. I just have a bad feeling about this."

"You have a bad feeling about everything," said a voice from behind them.

Patton squeaked. Virgil grabbed for his nonexistent crossbow. Logan sighed and said "Don't sneak up on them, Remus."

"It's just so much fun!" Remus announced, popping out of the archway and sashaying over to them. "I'm back and I brought presents! How's your arm?"

"Better," Logan said. "What are those?"

Remus shifted the items in his arms. He was carrying two filled knapsacks and a battered crossbow.

A familiar crossbow and familiar knapsacks.

"That's—" Virgil jumped to his feet and grabbed the crossbow from Remus' hands. Remus fumbled with the knapsacks and dropped to the ground with them. "My crossbow!" He squeezed it to his chest. "Where'd you find that?"

"I didn't," Remus said, tossing Patton the knapsacks. Patton took them. They seemed way heavier than they had been. "Your dragon boyfriend gave it to me."

"What?" Patton and Virgil yelled in unison.

"Relax." Remus waved a hand. "Open 'em."

Patton slid Virgil's knapsack over to Virgil and opened his own. An assortment of fruits and breads spilled out. He picked up a few scuffed apples and slightly burnt loaves, staring at them. At the bottom of the pile was a small white piece of paper. Patton moved aside some grapes and read it the cramped handwriting.

_I figured most of the food here wouldn't be your favorite. You'll find a plan if you try. Don't look for me. Watch your step on the way out._

Patton read it over and over again. He focused on the neat calligraphy, the little curve of the d's and the flourishes under the g's and f's. He memorized the exact shade of black against white paper and the little crease in the corner and a small stain from a popped blueberry. All that was safer than thinking of the actual words.

Janus remembered Patton was a vegetarian. Janus found Virgil's _crossbow_ , which couldn't have been easy. Janus thought of them and sent them—well, Patton couldn't find a better term than a _care package_. A little message of support from wherever he was.

_Don't look for me._

Patton turned the note over and swallowed down the bile in his throat.

"This…" Virgil's voice was quiet. Patton looked up to see that Virgil's knapsack wasn't filled with fruit. Instead there was an assortment of matches and several large sticks with charred tips. Beneath those were a few thin knives with wooden handles. Beneath those were a few small crossbow bolts. Virgil was staring at a note in his own hand, eyes wide. "He—"

"What does yours say?" Patton asked.

Virgil slid the paper over. Only two words.

_Good luck._

"Good luck," Patton said out loud, like that would make him understand.

"So," Remus said, and Patton jumped. He'd forgotten Logan and Remus were still there. They really had a tendency to blend into the background now, didn't they? "What's the story?"

"He wants us to escape," Patton said slowly. "Well, I don't know if he wants us to, but he knows we'll try. So he's helping."

"He knows us well." Virgil picked up a bolt and rolled it around in his hand. "Where'd he even get all this stuff?"

"There are several armories in the Mountain," Logan said. "However, it's highly unlikely he had access to any of them, which implies he stole these items."

"I like his style," Remus added, grinning.

Patton just stared at the fruit in his lap and the little note turned over on the ground. Even without seeing the words, they bored themselves into his skull.

_Don't look for me. Watch your step on the way out._

"So we're leaving," Patton said slowly. "We're actually going to do this?"

"What?" Virgil asked, jerking his head upright. " _Now?_ We still don't have a plan!"

"Yeah!" Remus scoffed. "I'm all for winging it, but I don't want to just jump off the mountain and go sploosh on the ground, thanks!"

"I agree with Virgil," Logan said. "We should do it right away, before Patton and Virgil get settled in."

"But the dragons'll see it coming." Virgil shifted. "Maybe we should wait until—"

"Wait until what?" Patton didn't wait for an answer. "I don't want any of us staying here longer than we have to."

Everyone was quiet after that.

"We still don't have a plan," Virgil finally said.

"Who needs a plan?" Patton asked. "I didn't have a plan when I tried to rescue you guys—"

"And look how well that went." Logan's mouth twitched, though, and Patton knew he was teasing. "It does seem futile to waste time and resources. Much as I dislike the practice of figuratively 'winging it,' I have to admit it may be our only option."

Patton returned his gaze to the food piled in his knapsack. He quickly pushed it all back in and tied the knapsack with a lopsided knot. The little paper with Janus' message fell to the floor.

Even with food, weapons and fire, they were still trapped. They didn't know which direction to go and they were surrounded by hostile dragons. Patton hated to admit it, but Logan was right—improvising could only get them so far. And they were only in this situation because Patton hadn't thought things through.

Patton picked up the paper and smoothed it in his hands.

_Watch your step on your way out._

Why couldn't Janus be a little less vague? He clearly believed they could find their way out. So why didn't he give them an actual plan? Maybe he was afraid of it being intercepted. Still, he was so smart, couldn't he have left a clue or two—

_You'll find a plan if you try._

Patton stared at the looping scrawl of the word 'try.' The _y_ had a long tail that doubled back under the word, almost like Janus was emphasizing it.

_Try._

Of _course_.

"Jan, you genius." A huge smile covered Patton's face. "You complete _genius_."

Virgil blinked a few times. "I'm confused."

"Try." Patton thrust the note at Virgil. "He wasn't just being encouraging, he was telling me what to do!"

Virgil looked at the note and back up at Patton. "Yeah, I'm still lost."

" _Magic!_ " Patton exclaimed. "He's telling me to use my magic!"

"What?" Virgil looked back at the note. "First, I don't see that at _all_. Second, I don't know how your magic would help. You don't even know how to use it."

"I do," Patton said with a pout, which was a lie.

"Third," Logan said. "Since when do you have _magic?"_

 _Oh_. Fiddlesticks.

Logan and Remus were staring at him with varying degrees of confusion. Virgil's eyes were widening as he realized what was happening. And Patton was pushing down the panic because Logan asked him a question and he needed to answer it.

"Since I made the deal with the Faerie," Patton said. "I think."

"And don't do that," Virgil said.

"What?" Remus asked.

"Ask questions." Virgil poked a thumb at Patton, who now felt even more awkward. "It hurts him if he doesn't tell the truth right away."

"Oh." Logan opened and closed his mouth a few times. "I…my apologies, I was unaware. I promise not to do it again."

"Fae stuff," Remus said almost reverently. "And now you can do magic _too_ —that's really—"

"It's not much," Patton said, cutting Remus off before he could hear the inevitable condemnation. "I really can't do much magic at all. And I don't know how to use it—I've only used it four times."

"Four," Virgil repeated, eyes asking the question his words didn't.

"I, um—" Patton rubbed at his neck. "I may have actually managed to use it. Against Janus. After he knocked you out."

"Oh," Virgil said, his face unreadable. Patton curled further into himself and stared at his hands.

"So how does—" Logan cut himself off. "I'm curious to know how your magic works."

"It's fire," Patton said miserably. No use trying to hide it from them. "Blue fire. I summon it—I don't think it can hurt me, unless I lose concentration. It…I'm pretty sure it can hurt other people, though."

Remus made a little noise. Patton looked up. Remus' eyes were wide and a grin split his face.

"That's so _awesome!"_ Remus blurted out.

"What?" Patton blinked. "It's _what?"_

"It does seem highly fascinating." Logan's eyes shone and he pushed up his glasses, adopting a pose Patton remembered well. It was Logan's scientist pose. "There are so many factors here—I wonder how hot the fire is, and whether it's oxygen-based or a different chemical reaction, and how long it can burn without some source of fuel—this is highly intriguing, Patton, could you demonstrate?"

"No," Patton said. "I don't know how to do it on cue. And—you think it's _what?"_

"Cool," Remus said, sounding like it was obvious. "Well, not cool, it's fire. So _hot!_ Flaming hot! It's really neat and I wanna know if it can burn people!"

"Did you…" Logan hesitated. "I don't understand what reaction you expected. Unless you were worried we'd be—"

"Scared," Virgil finished, giving Patton a sympathetic look.

Patton swallowed.

"Yeah, we're not scared," Remus said. "I don't think you could hurt anyone if your life depended on it, so you'll probably turn your kick-butt magic fire powers into some way to be really nice and save the world. Like the boring person you are."

"Really?" Patton whispered.

"Of course." Logan smiled at him. "It's alright, Patton."

"That's what I said," Virgil agreed, grinning lazily. "I was ahead of the curve, Pat."

"You're very smart," Patton agreed, grinning back. "And I should listen to you more often."

"Eh, it goes both ways, I think." Virgil shrugged. "So, plan."

"Plan." Patton spread his hands out. "I _think_ , if I can figure out how to use my magic, maybe it can lead us out? It comes from the Woods, so maybe I can find a way there, or I could just use it as light or defense. Either way, Janus seems to think it'll work, and I—I trust him."

"Not sure about that," Virgil said, but it was a token complaint. Patton could see in his eyes he agreed.

"We don't have many other options," Patton said. "So it's worth a shot."

"The problem remains, as I see it," Logan said, "that you don't know how to use your powers."

"Right." Patton giggled. "I can! I'm sure! I just need a little time to figure out how to use them and not kill all of us in the process."

"Gotcha," Remus said, sounding way more excited about that than he should.

"Well, no time like the present." Virgil motioned to Patton. "Go ahead, do your flamey thing."

Patton huffed. "I can't just—"

"Try," Virgil said.

Patton's retort died in his throat.

He waited a few seconds to make sure Remus and Logan weren't going to suddenly change their minds. Everyone was silent.

Patton carefully scooted a few inches away from them. Then a few inches more. Just in case.

He closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> logan and remus are in a qpr btw, because qpr rights. they're soft for each other. look they're soft. you can forgive me for all the angst now, right?


	20. Chapter 20

Focusing on the fire inside of him was like focusing on a tiny leaf in the middle of a tree. Like trying to remember a language he'd half-forgotten. He could barely find it when he concentrated, the heat barely more than a vague glow. He tried to grab at it. It skittered and sputtered and slipped through his fingers. The movement felt sluggish and Patton realized that he felt cold again. Damp and shivering and empty.

He hugged himself and rubbed at his arms. He felt exhausted and he hadn't even summoned any fire. A great start.

He wished Janus was here. Janus had a way of making Patton feel all warm inside. Janus was good at making Patton's chest catch fire.

But there was no Janus, no Woods, just Patton trying to light a fire from a few wayward sparks that petered out in the darkness.

Patton opened his eyes.

"Sorry," he whispered. "It's not working."

"That's alright," Virgil said. "We've got time."

"I just—" Patton tried to explain what was happening. "I feel really disconnected from it? And I can't figure out how to get it…excited? It's like I'm trying to strike a match but I can't find the right direction to make it catch fire."

"Maybe it would help to reference the last times you were able to use the magic," Logan said. Patton was sure that if he'd been able to, he'd have whipped out a notebook. "Then we could attempt to find a pattern."

"Makes sense." Patton bit his lip. "Um, we were on the bridge and I lit the bridge on fire, and then I used fire briefly during a practice with Janus, and I lit a branch on fire yesterday morning, and then I, um, summoned some when Janus—you know."

"Interesting." Logan leaned forward. "I don't see much of a pattern yet, but that's because the descriptions weren't very detailed."

"There's not much else," Patton argued. "I just always _tugged_. It wasn't a conscious thing, not really, and when I tried to force it, it always took me a while. Maybe not being away from the Woods is hurting it?"

"You haven't done any magic _inside_ the Woods," Virgil pointed out. "Um…how about…what you were thinking. Your thought process. L, is that a good question?"

"Very good," Logan agreed. "Patton, try and walk us through your thought process."

"Um, I guess—" Patton paused and tried to sort his thoughts. "There wasn't much. Most of the time I just tried three or four times until it worked."

"What about when it was—" Remus cut himself off mid-question. "Burning that bridge sounded pretty automatic. So that might be what we're looking for."

"I didn't mean to," Patton said, "but it just kind of happened? I was cold and I wanted to get warm and the next thing I knew, my hands caught the bridge on fire."

"You wanted to get warm," Logan said slowly. "And the other time it was automatic—I assume you can feel free to correct me—was when you used it against Janus."

"Yeah." Patton stared at his hands. "I was scared, I wanted to protect Virgil—"

Virgil shook his head. "I was knocked out. I don't think that's what you wanted."

"I—" Patton swallowed. "I wanted him to get away from me. I didn't want to get captured, I was scared, I just—I just acted on instinct."

"Instinct," Logan said slowly. "I think I'm beginning to understand—and the two other times…"

"I was frustrated because it didn't work," Patton said almost without thinking. "I wanted it to work."

"Of course." Logan snapped his fingers. "Your magic is a part of you, if I'm not wrong."

"Yeah? Pretty much?"

"So it has a vested interest in keeping you safe." Logan nodded and smiled. "It's protecting you. You use your magic when you want something to happen. It's entirely a self-preservation instinct."

"Huh." Patton wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. "So I was just—"

"Defending yourself." Logan looked extremely pleased with himself. "You wanted to counteract the effects of the bridge, you wanted the magic to work, you wanted to keep yourself safe. Of course, this can manifest in different ways. If you truly want to protect someone else, it would probably assist with that, too. But only if it also benefited you in the process."

"Huh," Patton said again, feeling kind of icky and not really sure why.

"That's still _awesome_ ," Remus said, staring at Patton with wide eyes. "I want magic fire instincts."

"No, you don't," Patton said.

"Don't stop me from living my life." Remus' eyes somehow grew even wider. "I could just _burn_ people—I could light Roman' hair on fire when he disagrees with me—"

"New plan," Virgil muttered, "make sure Remus never, _ever_ gets fire powers."

"With all this data in mind," Logan said, turning back to Patton, "I believe if you try again, you may be more successful."

Patton nodded and closed his eyes again.

What he _wanted_. He had to focus on what he wanted.

He wanted his friends to be safe. He wanted Logan and Remus back home with their families. He wanted Virgil to escape. He wanted—he wanted Janus to escape. He wanted Roman to see his brother again, he wanted Logan and Remus out of danger, he wanted Virgil to be free of panic, he wanted them all to be happy.

The fire didn't even shift.

_Entirely a self-preservation instinct._

Janus' voice came to mind. _Everyone's just looking out for themselves and the people they care about._

But Patton _was_ looking out for the people he cared about. That _was_ what he wanted. He wanted his friends to succeed—

Self-preservation.

Yes, Patton wanted his friends to be safe. But what did he want for himself?

And why had he never asked himself that question?

And why did it feel so strange to do it, like he was knocking the world off his orbit?

And what was the _answer?_

What did Patton want?

He wanted everyone to be happy, of course, he wanted—

What did he want for _himself?_

Patton squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. He wished he could ask questions of himself and get an honest answer. He wished he could have the truth handed to him and just know it was right. Instead, everything was mushy and gray and he wanted to turn back and open his eyes and say _sorry, guess I can't do this, let's find another plan._

He wanted…

He wanted to get out of this Mountain.

He wanted to get away from the dragons. He wanted to be able to see again. He wanted to be in his own bed with his moms and an intact town around him. He wanted to be _home_.

Patton dug deeper.

He wanted to be in control. He didn't want this magic—no, he wanted it. Did he? He _accepted_ it, that was better. He knew there was no getting rid of it. He wanted it to be helpful, cooperative, and he didn't want it to hurt people.

He didn't want to hurt people.

He wanted to be kind and helpful. He wanted to help. He wanted to be honest.

He wanted to be _good_.

He wanted to be confident that he _was_ good.

And he wanted—

Patton's mouth tasted like copper.

He wanted to be _normal_. He wanted to go home and have things be normal. He wanted to do chores with Virgil by his side, manning the cashier and sneaking crackers from the barrels and talking to the cows every morning. He wanted to hug his moms and have them ruffle his hair. He wanted to hang out with Roman and Remus and Logan, trading jokes and swimming in the watering hole and having races in the fields. He wanted to just be _Patton_. No adventures, no lies, no expectations. He wanted to just be who he was instead of what he was supposed to be.

He didn't want to always tell the truth.

He wanted to _choose_ to tell it. He didn't want to be deprived of options, because then he wasn't really making the good decision, he was being dragged along the only possible path.

He wanted to leave the path.

He wanted to be everything he wasn't allowed to be.

He wanted to _have_ everything he wasn't meant to have. A life. A family. A place among his friends. A…a boyfriend.

Because there was Janus, nestled in the middle of his wants, and Patton had known all along that he'd be right there. Smirking, telling stories in the fire, holding Patton's hand and always catching him when he fell.

He wanted _Janus_ , and wasn't that pathetic, and wasn't that hopeless, and wasn't that just the most amazing dream in the world.

He wanted Janus. And Virgil, his brother. And Logan and Remus and Roman. And his moms. And his town. And his life. He wanted his life back.

He wanted to _live_.

Deep down, that was all he really wanted.

And that's what he'd been denying himself. That's what he really needed every time he called on that fire. He wasn't worried with the right thing, not this far down. This far down, all that mattered was survival.

Which was what Janus had said all along, wasn't it? _Your priority is your own survival and no one else's._

Patton _hated_ that sentiment when Janus shared it. If people only fought for their own survival, where would anyone be? Cooperation was important. Selflessness was necessary. There were more important things in life than _living_.

_It's survival. Nothing personal._

Except…that's not what Janus was saying. He wasn't saying survival was the only thing that was important, was he? He was just saying it was the priority. That self-preservation should be the priority.

There was room for selflessness. There was room for love. There was room for anything and everything Patton wanted for his friends. There was room for helping and for doing the right thing and for keeping everyone safe.

But…there was also room for _living_. For wanting to live. Patton wanted to _survive_.

Did that make him selfish?

And if it did…was that really so bad?

This was wrong. This went against everything Patton knew. Rights and wrongs, shoulds and shouldn'ts. Putting others first was important. Putting yourself first meant you were _bad_. It meant you valued your own life above others and that was morally _wrong_.

So Patton had always put others first. He'd given Virgil the water, Janus the medical supplies, and all his friends the chance to talk but never himself. He'd gone on this entire rescue mission because it meant _Roman_ didn't have to, and Roman's happiness was more important than Patton's safety.

Roman…was more important than Patton?

That sounded bad. That made the fire in his chest burn angrily. Except the alternative was that Patton was more important than Roman and that was _equally_ bad. Just in a different way.

It was Roman or Patton, Virgil or Patton, Janus or Patton, Remus and Logan or Patton—

But maybe it didn't have to be.

Maybe it didn't always have to be good vs bad, selfishness vs selflessness, helping vs hurting.

Maybe there was room for a middle ground.

Maybe there was room for _balance_.

Patton wanted to live. He also wanted his friends to live. Patton wanted to be safe. He wanted his friends to be safe. Patton wanted to help. He wanted his friends not to be hurt.

None of those _contradicted_ each other. Not really. They just coexisted, different goals and different wants and different ways to approach a problem.

And sometimes maybe they would contradict. And maybe Patton would always choose what his friends wanted when things were important.

And maybe when things weren't as dire—

Maybe he could choose what _he_ wanted, too.

And maybe that didn't make him a bad person.

Maybe that just made him a _person_.

_Nobody's right a hundred percent of the time. Nobody manages to help every single person in the world without hurting people in the process. Everyone's just looking out for themselves and the people they care about._

Themselves _and_ the people they care about.

Janus made room for Patton. Janus made room for selflessness. Janus added that because Janus did care about them, in his own way.

Janus _changed_. Janus heard Patton's perspective and found a middle ground.

So maybe Patton could do the same.

What did Patton want?

_Patton wanted to survive._

He wanted to win. He wanted to fight. He wanted to catch fire so he could light his own way.

He wanted to burn his own path.

And he wanted to stop holding back.

The fire inside of him was jumping around, reaching up desperately for air. For once, Patton wasn't afraid of it. It just wanted to exist, like he did. It wanted to protect him. It wanted to help.

Patton opened his eyes and let just a bit leak through.

A small orb of fire faded into existence, sparking and popping and twisting but still _there_ , a loose circle of blue flames glowing above his palms.

"I did it," Patton whispered.

"You did it!" Virgil exclaimed.

"I did it!" Patton looked up and beamed. "I did it, guys, I did it!"

"Whoa." Remus scooted closer and poked at the fire. Patton pulled it away just in time. "That's wicked. It's all blue—I wanna touch it—"

"Don't," Patton warned. "It's _fire_."

"But it's pretty!"

Patton sighed. "No touching it, Remus."

"Congratulations." Logan's eyes were focused on Patton's fire. "That is most peculiar—I wish I had my equipment with me—"

"Calm down, L," Virgil teased. "You'll be able to study it all you want once we escape."

Escape. Right. That was what they were doing, and that was what they needed from Patton right now.

Patton focused on the fire in his hands again. Even without concentrating on it, it didn't seem to fade at all. It was like he'd unplugged a hole and magic was leaking out of its own accord. There must have been a draft, because it leaned to the right. He tilted his hands to see if it would burn out. It didn't. It just shimmered, still tilting to Patton's right, burning over and over, sending blue sparks into the air.

Patton tossed it in the air and caught it again. It felt like a warm nectarine in his palm, hovering just above his skin. He let it drop to the ground to see what would happen. It didn't even make it halfway there—it floated vaguely downwards before doing loops around Patton's legs. Patton giggled and poked at it until it sped down. It bounced off the ground and ricocheted back up to Patton's shoulders, circling him a few times before coming to a stop in his palms again.

"It's…" Virgil inched forward. Patton knew Virgil wasn't a fan of fire, but he looked intrigued. "It's kind of cute!"

"It's really cute!" Patton agreed, tossing the ball from one hand to another. "I'm calling it, um—"

"You're seriously going to name a ball of fire," Logan said, sounding like he expected nothing less from Patton.

"Yes," Patton said. "Um, maybe Ember? Or Ash? No, those don't really fit. And I want it to be a good pun."

"Feel free to think about," Virgil said. "But we do have an escape to plan."

"Yeah, um, people are gonna notice that Lo and I haven't been around for a while," Remus added. "Hopefully they'll assume we're getting up to some _quality time_."

"Word-association games," Logan clarified when Patton and Virgil gave him wide-eyed looks. "I always win them."

Remus coughed. "Lying loser-of-all-those-games says what?"

"What?" Logan asked.

Remus looked ecstatic. "It actually worked, I can't believe it—"

"Guys." Virgil stood up. His hands were shaking a bit but he clutched his crossbow and took a deep breath. "Let's go before I lose my nerve."

"Go where?" Remus asked, but he stood up too. Patton and Logan followed. Patton was poking at the little ball of fire and enjoying the way it felt on his skin—soft and comforting and warm like a blanket or a campfire.

Every way he tilted it, even if he was tossing it around, it still leaned towards the right.

Patton smiled.

"I think," he said, "Logan was right after all."

The problem with Sunspot—Patton was still trying out names, but none of them seemed to fit—was that there was only one of it. Patton had suggested he summon more fire but Logan pointed out that Patton had no idea how magic he could use at once, and that it would be best to have him ready for a fight if necessary. Besides, a cloud of blue fireballs was pretty much the opposite of stealthy. So everyone else had to carry torches.

Patton soon found out the problem with the torches was that they were _smoky_. Smoke curled into his lungs and made him cough, pricked at his eyes and made them burn, and filled his nose and made it sting. And they had to be replaced every minute or so because the soft wood burned through easily. _And_ every time they hit the damp cave walls they went out, which meant everyone was left scrabbling for a piece of wood in pitch darkness.

 _And_ , to make matters worse, they were trying to stay close together. So they had to keep the fire away from everyone else's hair as they stumbled down the path in a little cluster. Remus accidentally burned Virgil's hoodie and Virgil swore so violently Patton was sure the dragons would catch them, kill them, and tell them off for their language.

It had only been five minutes.

So their escape plan was going _great_.

Patton took the lead. He held out Compass Rose—nah, not fiery enough—and watched it closely to see which way they had to walk. They'd quickly found out that all the paths twisted, and that no path nearby led straight to the Woods. So they were just trying to make their way generally west. Patton felt oddly awkward as the leader. He'd never expected to be in this position. He wanted Janus to be here instead, because everything was a little less scary when Janus was leading the charge. Janus always had a plan. Janus had a way of making everyone feel that things were completely under control.

It wasn't true, of course, because he'd made a million mistakes in the Woods. But Patton did know that he'd done the best he could. And that Janus, if he were here, would probably be striding confidently down these halls. The best Patton could do was not trip _too_ much.

Virgil followed. He was aiming his crossbow at nobody in particular and kept whacking it into Patton's shoulder by accident. Then came Remus, who had grabbed a few rocks and declared that he'd bash any dragons that came by. Logan was last, holding a torch and his nose, constantly turning around to check that they weren't being followed. More than once, Logan ran into Remus and Remus ran into Virgil and Virgil ran into Patton and Patton fell forward and that'd be where Janus would catch him.

Except Janus wasn't here, so Patton hit the ground, hands stinging as he pushed himself upright. Starburst—nope—circled his shoulders as he climbed to his feet, then settled into place in his hands. And they kept going, a little straggling line, hoping that a path would open up to lead them off the Mountain.

 _You'll need a dragon to get out,_ Remy had said.

Did they need Janus? No, they didn't. Patton didn't need him. Patton had this handled.

But boy did he _want_ Janus.

The fire flickered in his palm, and as they rounded a corner it pointed even farther right. Great. They were going the wrong direction thanks to this stupid maze of corridors.

Logan had said that most of the dragons were asleep during the day. That was probably why they hadn't run into anyone yet. Around every corner were just empty shadows and flickering torches. Patton tried to step as quietly as he could. He was sure that his footsteps and the pounding of his heart and his stifled breathing were alerting every dragon in the area. So far? Nothing.

Patton wanted to believe his Fae luck was helping them out.

Then again, Fae luck hadn't helped him much before, had it? Patton was starting to believe the whole thing was bull.

And no dragons was _definitely_ too good to be true.

"We're good so far," Logan reported after checking around another bend. "Nobody's there."

"Knock on wood," Virgil grumbled.

"No wood to knock on." Remus leaned forward and rapped Virgil's crossbow. "There we are!"

Remus was right. No wood and no Woods. No trees to keep them safe from prying eyes, no clear path telling them which way to go, no option of backtracking all the way out. And it was weird that Patton was considering the _Iron Woods_ as a safe space. But also not that weird, really.

The Woods were their goal, after all. If they just got there, they were home free.

All they had to do was get out.

Get out and leave Janus behind—

The fire sputtered in Patton's hands as he shook his head vehemently. It didn't matter that he wanted Janus. Janus had made his choice. Janus had said not to look for them, and Janus wasn't even in _trouble_. Not real trouble, at least. Not the kind of trouble Patton would be in if he was caught trying to kidnap a dragon.

Heck, Janus _himself_ might turn Patton in. He certainly hadn't hesitated before—

Patton looked back at Virgil's crossbow and wondered, not for the first time, if this was all a trap. If Janus was just leading them into an ambush to betray them _again_. It didn't make any sense, of course—Janus wouldn't go to all the trouble of helping them if he just wanted to watch them lose. They'd _already_ lost. He'd _won_. And he'd decided to help his opponents get back on their feet.

Except Patton didn't like thinking of Janus as their opponent. He was Patton's friend—and maybe something more, if he was honest with himself, but now wasn't the time—and he wasn't on the opposite side. There weren't sides, not really, not in the way Patton had always thought. Janus was right _again_. Everyone was on their own side and fighting for themselves and the people they cared about.

He was so smart.

And also somewhere Patton didn't know, after knocking Virgil and Patton out, and maybe _that_ was all part of some master plan too. Maybe he'd planned the whole thing from the beginning to get Virgil and Patton inside the Mountain to rescue Logan and Remus.

Or maybe he'd planned it to get revenge.

Or maybe he hadn't planned it at all. Maybe he'd just…panicked. And made an imperfect choice out of several bad options.

Patton might never know for sure, because he'd never get to ask, because he was never going to see Janus again.

His heart twisted.

Lantern flickered in his hands.

He pressed his lips together and kept walking, sweat pooling at the back of his neck, waiting for the dragons to find them. He focused on the blue fire and the warmth it sent into his chest and not the darkness beyond it. He focused on his friends behind him and not Virgil's shaking hands, Remus' grim expression, and how Logan watched the shadows like they would slash at him and tear him apart.

Patton wanted so much to make the fire bigger. To fill the tunnels with light, to let warmth reach every corner of himself. But he had to contain it. He couldn't give them away, not now, and he still wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop it from hurting them.

He kept the light small. He kept the fire under control. He'd done it for years—he could do it now.

He shivered in the dark.

"We've got this," Virgil whispered into the silence, maybe for Patton's benefit or Logan's or Remus' or maybe just to reassure himself.

Patton nodded and watched the tilt of the fire. Every time the path forked, he chose the path nearest to the fire. But the fire was starting to lean away from what had been the left, and there was no sign of the side of the Mountain. Patton swallowed and forced himself to focus, to feel the distant tug of the Woods. The fire sputtered violently.

He had to focus on what he _wanted_.

The fire fell back into place. Patton sighed and followed its direction. What else did he have to do? And he could feel it was leading him to where he needed to be. This was fine.

"Everything alright?" Remus asked.

"Shh," Patton said, because he was getting a little better at assuming questions were meant for someone else. So he didn't have to answer them. So he didn't have to explain that he was starting to feel kind of terrible and was sure that soon their luck would run out and they would get ambushed and burned alive.

They rounded another corner after Patton peeked down it and confirmed it as safe. They slipped down a side passage after Virgil aimed his crossbow at the entrance. They walked around a bend after Logan checked for dragons. And they slipped past every cave entrance they saw. Most of them were dark. Everyone must be asleep by now, or just busy and assuming the footsteps were supposed to be there.

Patton looked down at Lightning—bad name, there wasn't even any lightning involved—and winced. As soon as they saw it, they'd probably realize something was up.

At the next fork, Remus ran ahead to peek around the corner. Patton shuffled Fireball back and forth between his hands.

"We should be there by now," Logan whispered. "The Mountain shouldn't take this long to navigate—"

"Do you know where we are?" Virgil asked, glaring at him.

"No, but—"

"Then shut up." Virgil huffed. "Pat's trying, and this whole place is a maze anyway. Where else would the fire be leading us?"

"I was just pointing out an inconsistency," Logan said. "Don't be testy."

"Sorry for being testy when we're a wrong turn away from dying—"

"Kiddos," Patton said, turning around and fixing them both with Looks. It probably wasn't as effective in the dark, but hopefully it would get the point across. "No fighting, okay?"

"Right. My bad."

"Apologies as well, though I still think we should—"

"Guys!" Remus hissed. It wasn't a yell—it was barely audible—but it was _urgent_ and made Logan immediately cut himself off. "Dragon ahead!"

"What?" Virgil grabbed at his crossbow. "Where?"

"Ahead," Remus repeated, rolling his eyes. "She hasn't seen us. Not moving, though, so we're gonna have to take her out—"

"Do we have to?" Patton asked.

"Leaving a trail of bodies doesn't sound like the best idea," Logan agreed. "Perhaps we should find an alternate route—"

"Well I, for one, am I tired of wandering around here." Virgil hefted his crossbow. "I can just—"

"Wait," Patton blurted out. "Don't—don't kill her, okay? I don't think—I don't think she necessarily deserves that."

Patton waited for Virgil to snap back that she was a dragon, of course she deserved it. Instead, his mouth just tightened.

"I have an idea," Logan said slowly. He leaned over and whispered something to Virgil, who nodded. "Remus, hand me one of your rocks?"

Remus tossed Logan a rock. Logan caught it and handed the torch to Patton, who juggled it with Flamebringer—too dramatic—and watched Logan sneak up to the bend. Remus stepped back and Logan turned to the other side of the fork, cocked an arm and chucked the rock down the hallway. It clattered to the ground.

"Hey," said a gravelly voice, "who is it?"

Logan grabbed another rock from Remus' hand and smashed it against the wall close to them, again and again. The loud thuds made Patton wince.

"Don't make me come over there." There was a long sigh. "Ugh, I don't wanna come over there—okay, Ozzy, if this is you I _swear_ I'm going to toss you into acid—"

Patton heard heavy footsteps. Logan stepped back and pressed himself against the wall. Remus did the same. And Virgil walked forward, crossbow raised.

A dragon appeared in the doorway, heavyset with a firm jaw and sparkling maroon eyes. "Who—"

Virgil's crossbow whipped around and slammed into her head. She groaned and crumpled to the ground. Patton darted over. She wasn't moving, but her breathing was steady.

Virgil grinned. "Thanks, Janus."

Patton smiled at him.

"Come on," Remus said, hopping over the dragon's body and scurrying down the hall. "No time to waste and I'm almost out of rocks."

They followed him down the tunnel, Patton making his way to the front again. The fire in his hands was shivering and twisting around. He tried to pet it to make it settle down. It only jumped around more. It kept swiveling every time they made a turn.

Maybe that meant they were close?

Hopefully it meant they were close.

Patton didn't know what he was supposed to do if he had led his friends somewhere else.

They crept past cave after cave, tripping a few times and steadying each other, holding their breath.

Patton felt a tug in his gut.

And the fire switched direction.

Patton stopped dead. He stared at it. It was no longer pointing somewhere vaguely to his right. It was pointing back toward _him_.

Had they missed a turn? No, all he saw was a small cave entrance and an empty hallway and his three friends staring at him.

"What's—" Remus raised his eyebrows instead of finishing the question.

Patton shrugged, looking down at Ember—he'd already tried that one, hadn't he—desperately. He tried to shake it. It didn't waver. It was pointing back the way they'd come.

Patton's eyes prickled with tears of frustration. He waved his hand and made the fire disappear altogether, plunging them into almost pitch-darkness. Logan blew on his torch to make it sputter and fill their little pocket of the Mountain with light, but it wasn't enough. And without Patton's fire, he felt even more cold and panicked and alone and desperate.

He quickly summoned the fire again. It flared desperately in his hands, begging to be released, pleading to fly down the halls and burn through the heart of the Mountain and scorch a path to open air.

Patton hemmed it in with a deep breath and a glare.

It settled down, blue and bouncy and sending sparks flying around. But it still pointed resolutely backwards.

"Pat," Virgil said softly.

Patton gritted his teeth and stepped back a few inches, pushing Virgil out of the way. He barely felt guilty when Virgil stumbled back. He was focused on the ball of fire in his hands and the fact that it wasn't _working_ right. It was supposed to lead them _outside_. So why—why was it shivering and twisting with every step?

He closed his eyes and focused on the fire. It felt like a beating heart in his hands. Alive and warm and pulsing and excited. It thought they were close. It felt like they were close. But they were nowhere near the end of the Mountain, Patton knew that much, so he didn't understand why the magic felt they'd made it to where they needed to be—

Patton's eyes flew open again.

"Patton?" Logan asked.

Patton ignored him. He looked around for anything nearby. Just a small cave off to the left, so dark that he had no idea what was inside. But he unfortunately had a guess.

"Patton!" Remus almost screeched, snapping his fingers in front of Patton's face. "You've been just standing there for like a whole minute now. If there's a problem, lemme know so I can punch it."

"There is," Patton admitted. "I—I'm sorry, I should have realized—"

"You're…" Virgil frowned. "It seemed like we were on the right track."

Patton stared at the entrance of the cave and shook his head. Dragons were supposed to be asleep, but he'd always been a light sleeper, so he probably had some idea they were there.

Maybe he was blowing this out of proportion. Maybe he'd just lost control of his magic and this was an empty cave. Patton could make another Lightbulb—what? What even _was_ a lightbulb?—and maybe that one would get them out of here. All he had to do was _leave_. Leave this cave dark and untouched and do what Janus _told_ him to do.

Patton sighed.

He already knew he couldn't do that.

The fire danced in his palms as he raised it higher, sending blue light spilling into the cave.

"What are you—" Virgil looked between the slowly lightening entrance and Patton. "Is this—"

"Sorry," Patton said again. "I couldn't help it."

He sent the fire flying into the cave, light splashing on the walls after it. It zoomed around like an excited firefly, illuminating a few knickknacks and a small bookshelf and a makeshift chair. Then a bed, then a small knitted rug, then a little box of bandages and gauze, then—

Then feet. Legs. Hands holding an abandoned book with a worn blue cover. Arms curled around his knees, tucked into a little corner, yellow eyes flashing.

_Crap._

Patton hated that he'd been right.

But his magic apparently had another reaction. It buzzed happily and started circling Janus, dipping around his shoulders and hovering over his hair. Janus made a shrieking noise and stumbled out of his hidey-hole, swatting at the magic. It dipped between his hands and poked at his legs until he stood up. Then it circled him again and again and again. Janus watched it with bewilderment.

"What the—" Logan looked confused. Remus looked entertained. And Virgil groaned loudly and swore.

"I'm sorry," Patton said yet again.

"No, I get it." Virgil shook his head. "I'm annoyed, but I get it."

At that, Janus finally looked up, pushing aside his hair and fixing Patton with a stare. Thanks to the shadows, his face was almost entirely covered. Just yellow eyes and thin wrists and bare feet and hair settling around his shoulders.

He huffed something that might have been a laugh.

Then he reached out and grabbed the fire from midair. Patton flinched in sympathy, but it didn't seem to hurt Janus at all. He rolled it between his hands, the glow lighting up his bones, leaking through his skin.

"Hi," Patton finally managed to say. It wasn't nearly enough. It wasn't anything at all. But maybe one word would help all the other ones get unstuck from his throat.

Janus was still watching him. Silent. He raised the fire and it lit up his face, blue sparks reflected in his eyes, the same thin lips and narrow nose and brown hair covering the pink burns down his cheek. Watching him glow blue—Patton's colors, Patton's magic—was surreal. It made him look like he was made of fire too, like Patton had conjured him up and let him free.

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk.

"You dropped this," he said.

A flip of the wrist, and Lava—no lava involved, scratch that one off the list—arced through the air and fell back into Patton's hands. A few moments of silence. Then a torch flared to life and another, the exact shade of Janus' fire, and the whole cave was lit up with a warm orange glow. It illuminated the small patchwork books, the stained carpet, and Janus. Still wearing the same outfit, though it was less bloody and dirty and some of the rips had been sewn up. Still smirking at Patton like it was just another day and Patton had said something especially silly and Janus was trying not to laugh.

"Hi," Patton said again, because he'd forgotten all other words in existence.

"Hello, Pat," Janus said, the smirk growing larger. "Hello, V."

"Sup." Virgil gave him a salute. "Get over here."

"Why?"

"So I can punch you, dipwad." Virgil rolled his eyes and stalked over to Janus instead, hitting him in the arm. Janus winced. "That's for knocking us out. C'mon."

"Oh, get over it, you're fine now." Janus shoved at Virgil. "And I did bring you your crossbow, so where's the thanks for that?"

"Yeah, but you tainted it." Virgil slapped at Janus' shoulder. "With your evil dragon magic. I can never use it again."

"Really? I'll take it, then."

"No!" Virgil suppressed his laughter as he pulled his crossbow out of Janus' reach. Janus kicked him lightly in the shins, Virgil raced out of reach, and Janus settled for flipping him off.

"So." That was Logan. Patton had forgotten he was there. It was hard to focus when Janus was laughing a bit, eyes sparkling, and _here_ again. "I hate to interrupt, but do we…what are we doing?"

Janus' eyes flickered back to them, and his smile faltered. "Logan and Remus, I presume. Pat's told me a lot about you."

"Really?" Remus' eyes widened. "Even the time I—"

"—set fire to a chicken coop, yes." Janus waved a hand. "Anyway. Can I help you? What's the issue?"

"We, um—" Patton rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. "I accidentally. Led us here. Because I wanted to find you, and my magic must have picked up on that, and yeah. So we don't actually know how to get out of the Mountain."

Janus stared at Patton and sighed. "I wouldn't expect any less. Right, left, right, straight ahead, the second right, the right that's further left, left, straight ahead, right."

"What," Virgil said.

"I just gave you directions," Janus complained. "I think the usual response is 'you're welcome.'"

"How are we supposed to remember those?" Virgil complained.

"Right, left, right, straight ahead, the second right, the right that's farther left, left, straight ahead, right." Everyone turned to stare at Logan, who shrugged. "What? I paid attention."

"Um, great." Patton smiled. "That's great! Thank you!"

"You're welcome." Janus sidled back over to his corner and picked up the abandoned book, flipping through it before settling on the bed and kicking up his feet. "Now go rescue yourselves while I return to the important activities you interrupted."

"What?" Patton asked. "But—"

"But what?" Janus looked up, his expression daring Patton to keep talking. _Daring_ Patton to stay and try to reason with him.

Patton took the dare. Because now that Janus was here again, Patton was _not_ letting him go.

"Come with us," Patton blurted out.

A quirk of an eyebrow betrayed Janus' surprise. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I looked for you," Patton said. "And I found you, and—"

"I told you not to." Janus turned back to his book, but his eyes weren't moving, and Patton knew he was still listening.

"Well, I'm not going to listen to you when you're being silly like that!" Patton placed his hands on his hips. "What did you expect, for me to just run off and leave you behind? I'm not gonna!"

Virgil carefully snuck around Patton and slipped out of the cave. Logan and Remus followed, and Patton vaguely noticed them making a small cluster further down the tunnel. They were giving Patton and Janus some space. Patton was glad of it, but he also kind of wished he had some backup. All he had was Firefly—maybe that name would work—and his own shaking hands.

"We need your help to escape," Patton said. He took a step forward then a step back. It felt weird to enter Janus' own firelit space. But it also felt weird to hover in the doorway, waiting.

"You don't," Janus said, not looking up.

"Yes, we do!"

"I _gave_ you directions."

"Yeah, and what if we get lost?" The fire in Patton's hands rose with his determination. "What if there's another dragon and we can't fight it? And how do we get off the Mountain? How do we get back across the chasm, how do we make it through the woods, how will we be fast enough so they can't find us?" Patton sighed. "Jan, we _need_ you. I— _I_ need you."

"You don't," Janus said again.

"Well, I _want_ you!" Patton's voice cracked. "I want you _here_. Safe. With us. _Please_."

Patton couldn't be sure in the dim light, but he thought he saw Janus flinch.

"And of course you can make your own choice," Patton hurriedly added, "and if you really want to stay, I'll—I'll let you stay. I'll leave. I promise. I just—I just don't know how I'm supposed to do this without you, Jan."

There. He'd said it. And it hung between them, tender and vulnerable and one wrong word away from snapping into pieces.

Janus slammed his book onto his bed. The noise made Patton jump.

"You'll be fine," Janus said. "You're smart. You're capable enough. You've got magic even _I_ barely understand."

"That's not the problem." Patton took one small step forward. "The problem is I _miss_ you and I want you to be _safe."_

"I don't—" Janus swallowed. His voice was tight but not angry. Just sharp and defensive and filling the air between them with knives. "I don't want to go with you."

"What do you want, then?" Patton let the question hang for a few seconds. "I'd like to know, Jan."

Janus curled away from Patton a little bit. His hair fell down and covered his face entirely. All Patton could see was his hand clutched around his wrist like he was holding it in place. He was tense, he was scared, so Patton quieted and didn't move closer. He'd said his part. He'd done what he could. Now it was Jan's turn again, Jan's move, Jan's choice.

Patton would respect it, whatever it was. But he wanted to know.

"I don't…" Janus' voice was quiet. "I don't know what you want from me, Pat."

It wasn't an answer. But it was soft and fragile and so obviously hesitant that Patton decided to stay quiet anyway.

"I don't know what you expect me to do," Janus continued. "Come with you and be part of your little friend group and make daisy chains?"

Patton flushed and didn't mention that he'd considered the idea once or five times.

"I just—I don't—" Janus raised a hand and clenched it in midair as if he wanted to grab something and pin it down. The right words, maybe. A way to tell Patton no. "You didn't come here to rescue _me_."

"I came to rescue my friends," Patton said. "You're part of that—"

Janus snarled. "We're _not_ friends!"

"We're…" Patton stifled the growing hurt in his chest. "We're not?"

Janus stilled.

Crap. He'd just guilt-tripped Janus, hadn't he? Patton fumbled for an explanation. "I mean, of course we're not! We don't have to be! I guess—I mean, I just kind of assumed—sorry."

Janus was quiet.

"Look, okay? I'll leave you alone. I'm sorry." Patton raised his hands and stepped back. "I—I'll miss you. Good luck, I guess? With dragon-y things. If—if you're ever nearby, feel free to say hello."

Patton waited for Janus to say something. He didn't.

"And if you ever need me," Patton added. "I'll be here, okay? I'm here if you want me."

Janus looked up for the first time. His eyes were wide and he was scanning Patton's face like he wanted to know the secrets of the universe. Like he was wondering whether to trust Patton, and that was funny because _Patton_ was the one who'd worried he'd betrayed them.

"I hurt you," Janus pointed out, and it could have been a sarcastic little jab if it wasn't laced in an emotion Patton couldn't name.

"Hey, my head's alright now." Patton rubbed it. "And I get it—"

"I still—" Janus waved a hand wildly. "I'm not—"

"Not what?" Patton finished when he realized Janus wasn't going to continue.

Janus bit his lip. "I'm not…Pat, I'm curious to know what _qualifications_ you have for your friends."

"Someone I spend time with and like mostly!" Patton giggled. "You've been my friend since you agreed to help us."

Janus blinked several times. "I was planning to betray you."

"But you were nice a little bit!" Patton shrugged. "And being friends isn't a qualification thing. It's if I like someone or not! And you and I got off to a rough start, but you were my friend when I first met you because I—" Patton paused. "Well, at first because I felt guilty. For hurting you. But then because I liked you! You were funny and even though you were mean I could tell you could be not-mean? If you tried?" Patton huffed. "Ugh, words are hard! What I _mean_ is, you're my friend. Because I like you! You're Jan and you're smart and you laugh at my jokes and you take care of us!"

"You mean I slammed a crossbow into the backs of your heads." Janus rose to his feet suddenly, pacing back and forth and counting off on his fingers. "I went out of my way to be sarcastic at every possible opportunity, I threatened to murder you on several occasions, I contributed to the burning of your town, I antagonized you _and_ Virgil, and I did my best to make sure we all _hated_ each other and suddenly we're _best pals_. So forgive me for being a little _suspicious_."

Patton's mouth made a little 'oh' shape. "You…" He shook his head. "Oh, _Jan_."

"What," Janus snapped.

"You asked whether I hated you," Patton said softly. "And I said no. Did you think I was lying?"

Janus shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "You can be one to soften the truth, I merely held reasonable doubt—"

"Jan, I don't _hate_ you." Patton shook his head, almost laughing at how silly the idea was. "And I didn't lie! I'm your friend and—I want to make sure you're okay and safe and where you want to be. _Honestly_." He shook his head again. "I don't know what part of you would make me _not_ want to be your friend."

And for a second, Janus looked completely astonished. His mouth dropped open just a little and his eyebrows raised and he looked at Patton like Patton had just painted the entire night sky.

Patton blushed violently and decided to stare at his feet instead, because his feet were safer and didn't shine in the firelight with wide eyes and beautiful hair and very kissable lips.

Oops, he was still staring at Janus.

"That's…" Janus coughed and the moment passed, his usual smirk sliding over his face like oil over water, walls back in place. "Very honorable of you, Pat."

"It's not honor!" Patton grinned. "Just common sense!"

Janus didn't seem fully blindsided by that one, although he did make a little squeak. "Ahem. Well. I…"

"Take your time," Patton encouraged.

"Time is the one thing we don't have," Janus said drily. His arm came up to rub his shoulder. "I...I should be planning this. I didn't plan this ahead of time, I have no idea what's going to happen—"

"Welcome to the club." Patton carefully extended a hand. "We've got your back. I know it's a huge step, and I get it. And I don't want to add any pressure, but…it really is now or never, Jan."

"I know." Janus looked around at the cave, at the firelight, at his books and his rug and a place he'd probably grown up in. A world he knew like his own fingerprint, a family that was imperfect and shattered and tearing itself apart but still the only family he'd ever known. Patton felt selfish for stealing Janus from this. Then he remembered the way Remus talked about the dragons, the way Remy hadn't seemed to care that Janus was alive, the way Janus always hid his injuries and disguised his feelings and never called them his friends and hated when he was out of control and was _scared_. Janus was always scared. And if Patton could take away just a bit of that, he wanted to.

"You know," Janus said slowly, savoring each word. "It's always too cold here. Even in the summer. I have to wrap myself in blankets just to stay warm."

Patton felt a twinge of hope in his chest. He tamped it down. No use getting excited already—Janus probably wouldn't come with them, he was probably going to stay and how could Patton even think to compete with his whole life, how could Patton matter more than Janus' _home_ —

"Even the fire's different." Janus looked at Patton's little fireball, which wound its way around his wrist over and over like a circling bird. "It never warms anything, not like—"

"Not like our campfires?" Patton asked. "Or not like…my magic?"

Janus shook his head and stepped forward.

And he slipped his hand into Patton's, cool and soft and gentle and perfect.

Janus smiled. "Not like you."

"Oh," Patton managed, sure his cheeks were burning brighter than his magic. He stood there for a few seconds. "Smooth," he finally forced out.

Janus' smile turned a little bit teasing. "Thank you, I try."

"You're…" Patton fought for words to try and one-up Janus and his smug smile. "You're really…cold. All the time."

"Smooth," Janus echoed.

"No, seriously!" Patton took Janus' hand between his. "I don't like the heat as much. And your hands are always so cool! It's relaxing and it makes me feel all…safe. Inside. Like swimming on a hot day. It's a little bit of relief."

Janus didn't betray any signs of being flustered, but it took him a few seconds to speak, so Patton was pretty sure it had worked.

"We should…" Janus paused. "Go. We should go."

"We should," Patton agreed. "If you're coming."

"I thought I made that pretty clear with the poetic metaphors," Janus drawled. "But…yes. I'm coming. If you'll have me."

"I'd _love_ to have you." Patton squeezed Janus' hand. "If you want me."

And Janus ran his thumb along the edge of Patton's palm, which was _cheating_.

"Then we're in agreement," Janus said, sweeping towards the cave exit. He gave Patton a brief smirk. "Come on, darling, we've got to get out of here."

"Right," Patton squeaked, deciding to ignore the 'darling' part for the sake of his functioning. "Um, do you have anything you want to take with you?"

Janus looked back and smirked even wider, showing a glimpse of fang and a glimmer in his eyes and such a familiar expression that Patton almost beamed just from sheer proximity. Janus was _back_. Janus was _here_. Janus was coming _with_ them.

"I don't think so," Janus said, tugging Patton closer. "Just you."

And Patton blushed again, because Janus was here and he was flirting and Patton had no idea how to handle this.

"Do you, um—" Patton swallowed. "Do you flirt? With all your friends? Is this flirting?"

"I wouldn't know." Janus paused. "I…don't have many points of reference. If it upsets you, I can stop—"

"No, it's fine!" _So very much more than fine,_ his brain supplied. "I was just curious." Patton let Janus lead him out of the cave. "Anyway, Virgil's your friend too, right?"

Janus scoffed. " _Virgil?_ He wouldn't touch me with a five-foot stick _,_ especially after I knocked him out—"

"What about me?" Virgil asked as they entered the hallway.

Janus immediately spluttered and went silent.

"What Jan was trying to say," Patton supplied, giving Janus a meaningful look, "is that you two are friends, right?"

Virgil looked nonplussed. "I mean…yeah? Yeah, I guess we are. He's cool. You're cool, snake, when you're not trying to betray us."

"What?" Janus blurted out. He recovered himself quickly, though, and said "Um, great. Fantastic. I knew that."

Virgil rolled his eyes.

"And, I—er—" Janus sucked in a breath. "I apologize. For hurting you. I didn't mean to—well, I _did_ mean to, but—dammit—" Janus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is literally impossible. I'm _sorry_. It was not a good thing for me to have done and I'm sorry."

Virgil looked from Janus to Patton. "Did Pat put you up to this?"

"Nope!" Patton squeezed Janus' hand. "He did it all on his own because he's a sweetie!"

"Shut up," Janus said mildly. "Anyway, Virgil's done. Who else? Logan, Remus, I apologize for…the entire debacle when we first met. I assure you I didn't mean to harm your friend, and I meant you no harm as well, but things quickly got out of control and I'm sorry for that."

Patton stared at Janus with wide eyes. He hadn't expected _that_. Janus continued to surprise him.

"It's—it's quite alright," Logan finally said, looking a little bit shocked himself. "No harm done in the end, and since you are risking a lot to help us now, I believe we are even."

"Yeah, no harm no foul!" Remus shrugged. "You don't seem to be a complete buttwipe and Patty likes you, so we're good!"

Janus blinked. "I…thank you."

"No prob, Janny!" Remus paused. "Also, you're holding hands with Pat? Guys, they're holding hands. Are we…is this something we're not addressing, or—"

Patton squeaked again and probably blushed again too. Because life was unfair. He glanced at Janus and—was that a blush on Janus' cheek, too, at least the one not covered by a burn?

"Oh, they do that kind of stuff all the time." Virgil shrugged. "They're sickeningly domestic."

"Ah," Logan said, sounding like he understood completely. Which was nice, because Patton didn't. "I see. They're—"

" _Anyway_ ," Patton hastily interjected before he could hear the end of _that_ sentence, "we should be going."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. He was probably taking pity on Patton and Patton was grateful. "So Jan's coming with us officially? Nice. Guess he can lead the way, then."

"Well, Bonbon will work too!" Patton wiggled his fingers and the orb of blue fire did a cartwheel. "Since, y'know, I'm not—distracted. By other people. It'll just lead to the exit."

"You can both lead," Logan said. He glanced at their still-interlocked hands—Patton couldn't bring himself to pull away, and Janus wasn't doing anything about it either—and sighed. "I have a feeling you'll want to stick together."

In the background, Remus made some kind of suggestive gesture Patton chose not to decode.

"See, what you did," Janus explained, dutifully ignoring Remus, "is that you ended up walking pretty far in the wrong direction. The quickest route will be to cut across the heart of the Mountain to reach the Woods."

"The heart of the Mountain?" Virgil repeated.

"It's the biggest cave," Janus explained. "Treasure, acid, dragon eggs—we have a storage and hatch a couple every two years or so, so there's always a few new members—and a rather large drop to the ground from the path we'll be taking. So…if you're afraid of heights, speak now or forever hold your peace." Janus' eyes skimmed over Remus and Logan and settled on Virgil. "We can take the long way around if we need to."

"No, it's fine." Virgil set his shoulders, drew up his jaw, and managed a smile. "I climbed a cliff, remember? We'll be fine."

"That's the spirit." Janus looked around. "Everyone in agreement? Follow me, trust in me, and believe I won't lead you to your doom and destruction?"

"Great pep talk," Remus remarked, but other than that nobody objected. Patton squeezed Janus' hand once again. He liked being able to do that. Just a little squeeze to remind Janus that Patton was there, and it always got him a little touch on the wrist in response. A flutter of movement that made Patton's heart flutter, too.

And so they started to walk. Janus and Patton took the lead, Patton with his fire and Janus with his glowing yellow eyes and swishing hair. Then Virgil and Remus and Logan. Smoke formed a familiar smog around them, Virgil's crossbow bumped into Patton's elbow, Remus gleefully slammed a rock into another rock for funsies, and it was just the same as always. Lost and cold and making their way through the dark.

Except Janus was there, hand in Patton's, and he _still_ hadn't let go, and so that meant everything was maybe going to be alright.

"So," Janus said slowly. " _Bonbon_."

"Short for Bonfire?" Patton waited for a reaction. "For my fireball? No?"

"No." Janus rolled his eyes. "I can't comprehend why you would even bother naming an inanimate object."

"It's not an object! It's magic! And it deserves a name!" Patton rolled the fire around his hand and watched it jump excitedly. "But I can't think of any good names, so I'm still working on that part."

Janus glanced at the fire. "Sparky," he suggested, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Patton gasped. "Sparky?"

"I _know_ it's a stupid name, that was the _point_ —"

"I love it!" Patton squealed, bumping Janus' shoulder and letting Sparky fly around Janus a few times to let off his excitement. "It's perfect! Thank you!"

"You're serious," Janus said, looking at Patton and the fire with something between distaste and fondness. "Well…you're welcome, I suppose."

"C'mere, Sparky." Patton giggled as Sparky twirled back to his palm. "It just _fits_."

"If you say so." Janus was silent for a little bit, but the tightness of his lips meant he was thinking about something, so Patton let him be. "You…can use your magic now."

"Don't act so surprised," Patton teased. "Your plan relied on it."

"It did," Janus admitted. "I also fully expected the plan to fail."

"Jan!" Patton exclaimed. Virgil shushed him.

"I didn't _want_ it to! I just expected it to!" Janus lowered his voice again. "I assumed you would take the time to think of a plan before you broke out, which would also give you time to work on your magic. I didn't expect you to leave right away."

Patton blinked a few times.

Janus sighed loudly. "I packed you _several days_ worth of food, how was this _not obvious_ —"

"Shh!" said Logan from far behind them.

"Well, we're here now." Patton smiled down at Sparky. "And I got it to work."

"I'm curious to know how," Janus said, watching Sparky as well. "It's a remarkable improvement—although admittedly, you did use it against me yesterday."

"Oh." Patton deflated a little. "Right. Um, sorry about that."

"Fight or flight, it's understandable." Janus waved a hand. "I'm more interested in how you learned to control it."

"Logan helped me figure it out," Patton explained. "It's self-preservation! So I have to focus on what I want and it helps me survive and keep myself safe."

"Hmm," Janus said.

"It…" Patton looked away, suddenly feeling nervous. "I relied a lot on the stuff you told me. Actually."

"Oh," Janus said. Open and soft and hesitant and how had Patton lived his whole life without that tone of voice? "That's…I'm glad I could assist. It took you long enough to start listening to me."

"It did," Patton admitted, smiling. "Anyway, yeah! I don't know how well I'd be able to do bigger stuff, but Sparky here? He was pretty easy! And I feel like my magic would be even better if I was nearer to the Woods!"

"Huh." Janus reached out and ran his hands just above Sparky again. Sparky sparked up to meet him excitedly. "It seems to like me."

"Of course it does," Patton said. "It's _my_ magic, right?"

Janus withdrew his hand and was silent, and this time Patton was _sure_ he spotted a blush.

"You're cute," Patton commented idly, because maybe they were going to die in this Mountain and he just really wanted to say it.

Janus made a vague spluttering noise.

Success.

"Listen," Janus finally said, in a tone of voice that meant he was going to start a very ridiculous argument over nothing. "You cannot just—"

"Shh," Remus, Logan and Virgil all hissed in unison.

Janus sighed, rolled his eyes, and fell silent. Patton reluctantly did as well, focusing on the fire in his palm, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

But Janus was still holding his other hand. So he didn't mind not talking.

Janus was here, which meant maybe—just maybe—they'd be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look Pat's got some self-esteem you go you funky little fae


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: falling, fighting, almost-death, self-sacrifice, unconsciousness, fire

Virgil's elbow was mashed into Patton's face. It smelled like dirt and blood and elbow. Patton thought about asking him to move it, but there wasn't any place Virgil could move it to—they were all crowded together at the end of the tunnel, looking out at the darkness below, trying not to make a sound.

Janus had led them to an opening in the wall. A few feet down was the surface of the biggest cavern Patton had seen so far. He'd told them to wait and now they were waiting, pressed together with Remus clinging to the wall and Logan two steps from falling off entirely. Patton watched a few stalactites drip and wondered if this was the heart or not.

"Is this the heart?" Patton finally asked, trying to be as whisper-quiet as possible.

"No," Janus said.

"Then why are we _here?"_ Virgil shifted and only managed to jab his elbow further into Patton's cheek. "My leg's falling asleep."

"It's the quickest path _to_ the heart."

Logan looked at the huge cave. "How is _that_ a path—"

"Shh!" Janus leaned out and peered around. "They'll be here any minute now, if I remember the schedule correctly—"

"You'd better," Virgil muttered. "Also, who's 'they'?"

"Do we have to fight anyone?" Remus scurried farther up the wall. "I wanna fight someone!"

"No fighting," Janus said wearily. After only twenty minutes of proximity to Remus, he was already gaining the exhausted tone of most who spoke with him. "We're just waiting for—"

A distant skittering of claw on rock and a blast of wind.

"There we are." A smile flashed over Janus' face. "Right on time. _Hide."_

Everyone scrambled back into the tunnel. Patton pressed himself against the rocks and clapped his hand over his mouth, dimming Sparky until the fire was just a glimmer in his hand. He watched the opening again, unable to see anything but darkness and the occasional gleam of water.

_Whoosh._

Something huge flew past. Patton caught cerulean scales and deep blue eyes before just darkness again. A few wingbeats. Silence.

"What," Virgil said slowly, his voice pitched in the way it did when he was panicked, "was _that_."

"Whoever was on flyover came back." Janus didn't move from his perch halfway up the wall. How'd he even _done_ that? "Wait for a little longer, someone else is going to fly back up to take their place."

Patton nodded. Sitting still for so long was making his knees cramp and his back itch. But he definitely didn't want to be noticed by a dragon, especially one in dragon form with big wings and big claws.

They waited in silence. Except for Remus, who tried to draw Logan into a word association game. Janus groaned and waved a hand like he could steal their words away from them. It didn't work, but after Virgil gave Logan a pointed glare, he quietly spoke to Remus and Remus stopped talking immediately.

Logan and Remus were closer now, Patton was realizing. They'd always been close, of course—but _friend_ close. Now they seemed to do everything in unison, or at least with agreement from both sides. They made each other laugh easily. They gave each other silent looks that seemed to convey whole conversations. They kept touching each other lightly on the back and sides, like little reminders or encouragements or just statements of "I'm here."

That made Patton smile. This whole thing had been a disaster and a terrible ordeal. But…there was a bit of a silver lining for them.

Patton looked up at Janus, who glanced at him and gave him an encouraging smile.

Yeah, Patton had a silver lining, too.

They kept waiting. Patton started tossing a rock up and down and watching it land on its pointy edge ninety percent of the time. Maybe he shouldn't be using up his luck, but luck wasn't really something that _could_ be used up, and the most his luck had done for a while was just make sure he didn't die.

Or maybe that was all Patton. Who knew.

Distant wingbeats startled Patton, and he dropped the rock. He pressed himself against the wall again, damp clinging to his neck and hair. Janus placed a finger to his lips and Remus scooted even higher on the wall.

Silver scales this time. A brief flash of red eyes. Silence.

Janus sighed in relief and unpeeled himself from the wall. He motioned for the rest of them to follow as he slipped through the opening and jumped into the cave below. Patton sat up, shook out his leg which had fallen asleep, and followed the others through the opening.

Then he got his first good look, and his jaw dropped open.

It wasn't a cave after all. It was a tunnel, the biggest tunnel Patton had ever seen in his life. The walls were smooth and practically circular. The sleek floor—so sleek Patton's feet skidded on it and he had to fight for balance—dropped away sharply into the gloom. Far below, deep within the darkness, he thought he saw a flash of fire.

Patton turned around and looked up. A steep incline of stone and…light. Sunlight. Patton almost winced at the suddenness of it, even though it was barely more than coin-sized. Somewhere up there was an exit.

He took a step forward, slipped, and almost fell. Janus grabbed his waist and pulled him back up.

"Watch your step," Janus chided. "That goes for all of you."

"That's—" Logan looked around, eyes wide. "What _is_ this?"

"The main tunnel. Hey, we've got to get in and out somehow, don't we?" Janus ran his hand along the wall. "It was made by a wyndworm centuries ago. Think giant slimy snake with no eyes," he added when everyone looked confused. "The worm itself is long dead but this is what we built our tunnel system around. The heart itself used to be its nest."

Patton shuddered.

"Cool, cool, cool." Remus pointed at the light far above them. "And _that_ is a way out. So are we gonna—"

"Too noticeable," Janus said. "Everyone uses that entrance, they'd see us easily. Besides, it's in slightly the wrong direction."

"And," Patton added, who was still struggling for purchase on the stone, "I'm pretty sure we'd all fall and break a bone if we tried to climb that."

Janus nodded. "Good point. Only one of us can fly."

"So we're going…down?" Virgil asked, turning to stare at the receding walls and the black hole far beneath them. "Please tell me we're not going down."

"We're going down," Janus said, his smirk illuminated by Patton's fire.

"Dammit." Virgil sighed. "I guess I shouldn't have expected anything else."

"Question." Logan was sliding back and forth on the slick surface of the stone. "This seems highly unstable for walking, and a place that is relatively open and in which we could be easily spotted. How are we supposed to get down in time?"

"Well," Janus said, "either I fly you down—which is really not stealthy and I'm pretty sure Virgil wouldn't like it—or…"

"Or?" Patton asked, beginning to feel a little worried.

"Or we make this quicker." Janus grinned. "Logan, I think you can piece this one together. If there is a tube with a low amount of friction and we need to get down it very fast, what's the logical plan?"

"Well, we'd probably—" Logan paused. "Oh."

"Oh _what?"_ Virgil looked around wildly. "What are we _doing?"_

Patton tried to piece things together, but he was coming up blank.

"We slide!" Remus exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "On our butts!"

Virgil's eyes somehow managed to widen even further. "We _what?"_

"Relax, you'll be fine." Janus allowed himself a smirk. "Probably."

Virgil did not look reassured. Patton had to admit that as much as he liked slides, a super-smooth tunnel with possible dragons at the other end was not his idea of a fun time.

"I'll go first!" Remus sat down and paused. "Jay-Jay, anything I should know before I do this? Don't wanna land in a bunch of dragon eggs."

"You'll be able to stop yourself," Janus said. "And trust me, you'll see when the tunnel ends. Also, don't call me Jay-Jay ever, thank you."

"Gotcha, Janny Boy!" Remus ignored Janus' groan and pushed himself off. He slipped a few inches down and a few inches more, and soon he was gathering speed, leaning back and letting himself slide. Patton heard him whoop as he disappeared into the darkness. At least one of them was having fun.

"Don't make so much noise…" Virgil called after him, trailing off in resignation.

"I suppose someone should make sure he doesn't die," Logan said, and in a flash he was following Remus, going way faster than Remus through use of strategic leans and twists. Patton waved a little as Logan disappeared.

"I hate this," Virgil grumbled, but he reluctantly dropped to the ground. It took him three tries to work up the courage to push off. Then he slipped a few inches, stopped himself, slipped a few more inches, stopped himself, and stared at Patton in horror. "I don't want to."

"You can do it!" Patton encouraged.

"Look." Janus slid on his bare feet and somehow managed to come to a stop right by Virgil. "If it helps, I'll give you a push. And I promise I'll be right behind you."

Virgil nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. Janus shoved Virgil gently between his shoulder blades and Virgil slid down the tunnel, arms crossed over his chest, going pretty slow but still making good progress.

Patton smiled at Janus. "Go ahead. You said you'd be right behind him."

"I did," Janus agreed. "You'll follow?"

"I always do."

Janus smiled back and in a flash of yellow he was sliding down expertly. Like he'd done this a million times before. Patton wondered if he'd done dares here as a kid, or just enjoyed sliding with his friends like Patton did on snowy hills during the winter. Then again, he'd said he didn't have any friends. Maybe he just did it on his own.

That made Patton feel kind of sad. He loved sledding and playing on slides, but it would be no fun if his friends weren't there.

As Janus disappeared with a final wave of hair, Patton steeled himself. He sent Sparky down, but Sparky stopped a few feet away, bobbing up and down, waiting for him.

"Alright," Patton said to himself. "Let's do this."

He carefully sat down on the slippery stone. He could already feel himself sliding and he instinctively dug his hands and feet into place to keep himself steady. A gust of wind came tumbling down the tunnel, and when Patton sniffed it, he thought he smelled trees.

They were so close to an exit, so close to sunlight, so close to escape—

And they were going the other direction. Deeper into the Mountain. To the heart. Patton was turning his back on the light and slipping farther into the shadows.

Because Janus said this was the path.

Did Patton trust Janus?

With his life.

Patton closed his eyes, breathed out, and let himself fall.

He slid down into the darkness, the walls falling away around him, gaining speed until he wasn't sure he could stop himself if he tried. Wind whipped against his face, tossed his curls, and made him screw up his eyes even more. He made the mistake of putting one hand down and got a bit of a scrape. It stung. But it was just one more injury added to about seven or eight, and soon, if this worked, Patton would be able to take a look at it safely. He'd be going _home_.

Home which was the exact opposite direction right now. Home was up. He was going down.

He was going down because he trusted Janus, and because he didn't see another option, and because at this point he was going way too fast to stop himself.

He cracked one eye open and saw only darkness. Well, darkness and Sparky, sliding next to him and sending blue sparks flying into the air like metal on metal.

Patton decided to close his eyes again.

Then he decided to open them. Because he'd need to stop himself eventually, wouldn't he? He had no idea _how_ , of course, but he felt it was kind of important. He didn't want to just skid into the center of the Mountain and get pressed into a little rock in the middle of the bigger rocks. Patton carefully extended a hand just to see if he could. It wobbled in the slipstream and felt kind of like he was attempting to push it out of a waterfall. But it stayed there.

He tried putting his hand down on the stone.

 _Ow._ Not doing that again.

Instead, he dug his feet in. His momentum slowed. Or he hoped it slowed based on the lessening of the wind in his face. He couldn't be sure. Everything looked the same, the walls around him were endless, and it was all too dark—

Fire beneath him. Not his own blue fire. A familiar yellowy fire, the fire of dragons, the fire he remembered from that night so long ago where everything started. He'd gone to sleep that night thinking about his toy animals, and whether he was going to take which chores the next morning, and if he could possibly convince his moms to get a puppy. Then he'd woke up to dragons and the world had changed.

Everything was confusing now. Everything was dangerous now. Patton had almost drowned and swallowed spiders and made a deal with a Faerie that _still_ might backfire and found out that he was descended from said Faerie and got magical powers and crossed a secret-keeping bridge and made a friend. It had all been a mess, and he'd said he'd get to the Mountain and he had, which was more than anyone else had ever done.

Of course, getting _out_ of the Mountain was another matter altogether.

It was dark inside the Mountain, and it was cold, and even the fire was too dangerous to keep Patton warm.

It was dark, he was falling, everything was out of control and he was suddenly wishing fervently that it had all never happened in the first place—

Except that felt wrong.

Because yeah, he'd almost died. And he'd gotten kidnapped. And he'd messed up. And he'd made mistakes. And he'd hurt Janus, who was now his friend. And he'd lied and he'd cheated and he'd almost gotten them killed and he'd been scared and angry and _lost_.

But…

But they'd made it this far.

Patton had gotten himself this far.

He'd found Logan and Remus. He'd helped Janus and Virgil. He'd made a new friend, mastered some new magic, and conquered a new adventure. He'd saved a unicorn! And outwitted a Faerie! And rescued his best friend! And helped Janus fly again! And it had all been kind of mish-mashed and not very great at times and sometimes they'd taken two steps backward with every step forward, but they'd still managed to get somewhere.

If all this had never happened, they'd be safe. Patton would be with his friends and powerless, content, still scared to speak and still compelled to answer every question because he couldn't admit what they did to him. Powerless, scared, and lost—lost in an entirely different way. So lost he didn't even realize there was a path he was supposed to be on in the first place.

But he'd found it. And lost it again, and stepped off it accidentally, and followed his friends off it, and struggled up and down it. And lost it, and found it, and followed it, and trusted that Janus knew what he was doing, and Janus had made mistakes but he'd also _gotten_ them somewhere and neither of those things canceled the other out. They just existed, two halves of a whole, two different fuels of the same fire. Everything was good and bad and whatever was in the middle and it felt mixed-up and patchwork and strangely _okay_.

And it didn't matter, after all, the paths they'd taken. They were where they were. They were who they were. They'd done what they did and said what they said and hindsight was twenty-twenty but all they could really do was look forward. Keep following the path or find their own path. And figure out the next step from there.

The past didn't matter. It was all behind you, and if you wanted you could retreat to it, run back down the path to the last place you felt stable. But that didn't get you anywhere at all. Look back all the time and you'd trip over your own feet because you hadn't been watching your step.

The past couldn't be changed. But Patton could change his present. That was what really mattered.

He'd done what he did, made his mistakes, and a million terrible things had happened and maybe it could have been different but it _wasn't_. He was here now. It was dark, he was falling, and Janus was somewhere below him and Janus would catch him.

And if Janus didn't, Patton would reach out and catch himself.

Because he knew how to, by this point. He'd fallen enough times to learn how to avoid it.

The fire grew brighter in Patton's eyes. The darkness was fading away piece by piece. He still slid expertly over the stone but the incline was leveling out a bit and the walls widened ever-so-slightly. Somewhere beneath him, he thought he saw a few silhouettes of people, standing at the lip of a room that glowed as brightly as the sun.

There it was.

Patton smiled and ground his heels into the stone.

He skidded, stumbled, and feet from the ledge, scrambling to his feet, grinning wildly like he'd been having fun. Maybe he had. Or maybe it was just the way he felt—loose and relaxed and boundlessly open. As if all his worries had been left behind in the wind.

Sparky bounced over to Patton and Patton gave it a little bump as a high-five. In the piercing light, Sparky was dim and almost invisible. Patton added a little more power and felt his head swim, just a bit. Okay. So his power did have limits—good to know.

"Good, you're here." Patton looked up to see Janus nodding at him. Virgil was standing next to him, arms crossed and hair mussed up wildly. Remus was still grinning and whispering "Awesome" to himself. Logan was straightening his shirt and giving the dark hole behind them suspicious looks.

Patton waved at them all and took a few unsteady steps over. Janus looked surprisingly unruffled, save for a few streaks of dirt on his clothes, and Patton found that unfair.

When he reached the edge, however, all thoughts of the tunnel flew from his head.

Beneath the lip of the tunnel was a huge cavern. Every stalactite was the size of Patton's whole body, and a ring of fire around the edge made them all appear to glow. Hundreds of treasures and eggs and dragons were strewn across the floor, all edged with flames and impossible to distinguish from each other. The brightness of the light made Patton squint. He focused on the walls nearest to him and saw they were pockmarked with tunnels, some big and some small, like a giant wasp nest.

"Whoa," he breathed, because he felt he was supposed to say _something_.

Janus didn't look impressed, which made sense, because he'd probably been here dozens of times. He only spared the ground a glance. "There are some dragons here—they look asleep, but we'll need to be quiet."

"There are _what?"_ Virgil peeked over the edge, flinched, and shuffled back several feet. "No, no, _no."_

Patton placed a hand on his arm. "Jan, what do we do?"

"The closest exit that'll work is…" Janus scanned the tunnels and pointed at a smaller one with two stalactites over the entrance like fangs. "That one."

"That's like all the way over _there_ , though." Remus frowned. "How're we gonna…?"

Janus pointed again, and Patton noticed a small rope bridge along the side, crafted of stone and wood and hastily tied to the wall. It dipped around some of the tunnels and wound all the way around several times, looking like a ribbon against the rock.

"No," Virgil said simply. "No, absolutely not."

"My apologies, we'll just fly over there by flapping our arms." Janus waved his hands mockingly. "You first."

"You _can_ fly," Logan pointed out.

"The rest of you can't, and I can only carry maybe two people at once."

"Wait." Remus frowned. "There are _four_ of us."

"A remarkable observation and the _entire point_ of what I was saying."

"So…" Patton hesitated. "How are you getting _all_ of us off the Mountain?"

Janus stared at Patton for a few seconds. Then he swore.

"We could go in pairs," Logan suggested.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Patton decided. "Right now, we've got another bridge to cross."

Everyone turned to look at the little makeshift ledge. It had some sort of rail but it was broken in places and looked like a strong gust of wind could knock it over. Patton privately thought they might have better luck trying to fly.

"That looks terrifying," Virgil finally managed in a strangled voice. "It's like a combo of the bridge _and_ the cliff, both of which almost killed us!"

"If it's any comfort," Janus said, "I doubt this bridge fills your mind with your deepest insecurities. And I don't think there are any gryphons."

Virgil glanced down into the heart. "There are dragons, though."

Janus looked like he didn't have an argument for that.

"Let's go slow," Patton decided. "Okay? If one of us slips, catch them. If things go really wrong…fight, I guess."

Nobody looked too excited about that. But Janus sighed and walked over to the edge where the bridge dipped below their tunnel. He sat down, let himself fall forward, and caught himself on the rocks so his feet hit the bridge lightly and neatly. He crept down the bridge a few feet and motioned for everyone else to follow.

Logan slipped down next, almost as silent as Janus, tripping on the edge of the bridge but catching himself just in time. Patton decided to follow. He bumped his way down the rocks, heart hammering, and managed to find purchase on the bridge. It creaked under him. Virgil was right—this whole thing brought back bad memories. Well, hopefully nobody would fall off this time. And hopefully he wouldn't light the whole thing on fire. Patton pulled Sparky away from the edge of the bridge anyway, just for safety.

A light thump behind Patton and a swear, which meant Virgil had joined them. Patton scooted further down the bridge and sent Virgil a smile. Virgil, who was already curling into his hoodie and pressing against the wall nervously, gave a shaky one back.

Remus shook the whole bridge with his landing. Patton grabbed wildly at the wall to steady himself. Virgil swore again.

"Sorry," Remus said in a harsh whisper. "I tripped on the way down."

"It's fine," Janus hissed. "Follow me and stay quiet."

Staying quiet, Patton found, was very hard. Every step made the whole bridge creak and shake. Every wrong move sent him tumbling to the stone wall, which hurt, or tumbling towards open air, which would hurt very much when the open air eventually stopped. Fortunately, he was getting better at sensing when he was about to trip and throwing himself in the direction of the wall. And Virgil also caught him when he needed it.

Up ahead, Logan slipped and fell. Patton reached for him and missed, but Janus grabbed his arm and hauled him back upright.

"Watch your step," Janus whispered, eyes flashing to Patton. Patton smiled.

It took too long to get to the tunnel. Janus was setting the pace and each step of his was small and hesitant, so Logan was doing the same and Patton was doing the same and Virgil was somehow being even _slower_ and Remus was practically a snail. Patton didn't blame any of them. The bridge swayed if they stepped too hard, and then one of them might fall off, and if someone fell off they'd definitely be noticed by the sleeping forms below. Two blue dragons, he'd finally made out, and one the color of a pinkish sunset, and a huge black dragon with silver horns.

"Who's that?" Patton whispered.

Logan glanced down. "Black is usually a juvenile color. Their scales gain color later on. That…does not look like a juvenile, though."

"It's Mara," Janus snapped. "And shh."

"It's _who?"_ Virgil stared at the dragon in horror. "We're trying not to wake up _Mara?"_

" _Shh!"_

Virgil obligingly _shh_ ed, but he kept glancing down and shuddering. Patton didn't blame him. From what he'd seen and heard of Mara, he did _not_ want her finding out they were trying to escape.

Patton slipped again. Virgil caught him. They were more than halfway to the tunnel entrance. At least, Patton hoped this was the tunnel entrance. A lot of the tunnels kind of looked the same. Janus probably knew what he was doing, though, and they just had to follow Janus! So it would be fine!

It would be fine.

Patton glanced at the dragons far below them and cold shivers trembled in his chest. Sparky pressed closer to him, but even the familiar warmth couldn't comfort him.

He stepped, stepped again, stepped again. He focused on his feet, on the scuffed lining of his shoes, on the dirt smeared on his overalls. He'd have to get new overalls after this, probably. His moms would be upset. But he really didn't want to wear these ever again. They were more shredded than intact in most places and torn up in a way stitches wouldn't fix.

Step. Step. Step. Stare at his feet. Don't look down. Don't think about the dragons only a little ways below. Step. Step. Step.

There was a loud noise below them. Patton almost screamed and Virgil swore, cutting himself off mi-word by clapping a hand over his mouth. Janus stopped walking and Logan almost fell into him.

Patton carefully looked down.

One of the dragons—the pink one—was yawning and stretching their wings. They twisted their neck, blinked lazily a few times, and started to uncurl.

Patton looked to Janus. Janus looked terrified, which wasn't a good sign.

Well, maybe it wouldn't see them? If Patton just stood very still and pressed himself into the rock wall, he'd become a rock too. And it would be fine.

The dragon raised their head and stared directly at them.

Virgil was shaking violently next to Patton. Logan's hands were white on the rock. Remus was swearing under his breath, even more colorfully than Virgil.

Patton just stared, every inch of his body frozen, waiting to get swooped up and killed.

The dragon tilted their head, deep brown eyes watching them carefully.

"We should walk," Janus advised. "It makes us look like we're supposed to be doing what we're doing."

Nobody, including Janus, moved an inch. Patton was pretty sure he couldn't move if he tried.

"Emile, leave." Janus was muttering it under his breath. "Leave, leave, leave—"

Emile couldn't possibly hear them. But his eyes narrowed slightly and his wings extended.

Then he was off, flying through the air, and Patton would never get used to seeing a dragon midflight. The way their tail dipped and twisted to control their balance, the way their wings gripped the air like it was water, the way their heads bobbed up and down and their legs tucked up and their horns gleamed. Up close, Emile wasn't all pink—there were little flares of orangy-yellow around his belly, like a tinge of morning sun.

He was flying way too close. Patton pressed even farther into the rock until he was sure he was making stone-sized impressions in his skin.

Janus was stock-still, watching Emile with narrowed eyes.

Emile flew.

Right past them, towards the big tunnel, as if he hadn't seen them at all.

Patton stared at him. This had to be a trap. Why was he just _avoiding_ them? They must have looked so suspicious, and Emile _knew_ Patton and Virgil weren't supposed to be out—

Emile met Patton's eyes and winked.

And he was gone in a flash of wings, leaving silence in the heart of the Mountain. Silence and five very intimidated teenagers, still doing their best impersonations of rocks.

Patton's heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest.

He looked to Janus. Because Janus would know what was happening, and if they were safe, and if Emile was going to come back with a bunch of friends and try to rip them open.

Janus closed his eyes, breathed a sigh of relief, and whispered "Thanks, Emile."

And Patton smiled.

Virgil peeled himself off the wall. Logan relaxed his grip. Remus swore cheerfully. Janus pushed himself off and kept walking, his shoulders a little less tight, still taking every step carefully.

Patton walked again. He kept his eyes on his feet and his ears pricked for any more noises. There was nothing—nothing but the gentle whisper of Virgil's hoodie, the light footfalls and little creaks of their movements, and the occasional little rush of wind. The heart didn't smell or feel like the rest of the Mountain. It was damp but cozily so, and it had a kind of heat that scorched Patton's bones and made him feel set bare against the stone. Like the light beneath them was scouring him and scrubbing him clean.

There was nothing about this place that was terrifying. It was just a huge cavern with some dragons inside. But something about the light, something about the smell, something about the journey to get here set Patton on edge. This whole place felt wrong to him. It was so new and so big—and there was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. They were exposed with no shadows to duck into and no dappled cover from the sky. It felt like they were back on that road, so long ago, with the sun beating down and only rippling corn for miles. Patton had hated that, because of the heat, but it wasn't _scary_. Not like this.

Maybe it was all the things they'd been through. Shadows meant bad things, but light in the Woods meant even worse. Maybe Patton was accustomed to hiding by now.

Or maybe Patton was just scared of falling and also dragons.

That would also make sense.

Patton took a deep breath. It smelled like ash. Ash and rust and old paper and spices, a heavy and thick scent, thicker than water. It sloughed off the walls and dripped from the ceiling and covered Patton's shoulder like a blanket.

If Patton really concentrated, he could smell the mud on Virgil's hoodie and the dried blood on his own skin. If Patton closed his eyes and listened hard, he could hear everyone's breathing—Virgil's a little too fast, Remus' a little too loud, Logan's almost imperceptible, and Janus' far ahead. So steady that he had to be doing it on purpose.

Patton found himself following Janus' breathing. In and out, in and out, a rhythm in line with his steps. Sparky bounced alongside him on the same rhythm. In, out, step, step, bounce, bounce, make his way along the bridge and try his best not to fall.

He licked his lips and tasted fire.

"Almost there," Janus whispered. Patton heard Virgil sigh in relief. The tunnel up ahead was a little higher than the bridge with those two stalactites in the entrance and a little nick alongside it. Pure darkness inside, but at this point Patton didn't expect anything else. And he kind of looked forward to it. Cool darkness felt better than blinding heat, at least right now, and cool darkness didn't have dragons curled up in jeweled heaps far below.

Almost there. They were almost there.

Janus reached the tunnel first and hissed in annoyance. It was several feet above them. The remnants of a rope ladder dangled from a nearby outcrop, but it had crumbled to pieces long ago, only leaving natural rocks as the path to the tunnel.

"Great," Virgil mumbled as they stopped in front of it. "Fantastic. Climbing—that's something I like doing."

Remus looked at the wall, cracked his knuckles, and scampered up without another moment's hesitation. Patton remembered he'd loved to climb trees back home. Now he dug his toes into the rock, swung his way up, and pulled himself over the ledge with only a few curses in the process.

"Who's next?" he asked, smiling wider than the situation really allowed. "I'll help out from up here."

Logan nodded and stepped onto a small ledge, then a wider ledge, then grabbed a particularly rough outcrop and hauled himself upwards. Patton tried to take notes. Soon, that'd be him. He winced when Logan's foot slipped, but Logan jammed his hand into a little divot and hung on tight. Remus leaned over the edge and waited until Logan had crawled his way in range before grabbing Logan's shirt and helping to haul him up. Logan banged a knee on the lip of the tunnel and swore almost as colorfully as Remus, but it didn't seem to be bleeding, and he'd made it to the top.

"Get it over with," Virgil whispered to himself. He grabbed at one rock. His hand slipped and he jumped back onto the bridge, which made the whole thing sway. His hands were shaking again. He looked like he was considering just curling up into a ball and hoping he could teleport his way up.

"You can do this," Patton encouraged him. "I'll catch you if you slip, okay?"

He had no idea if he could keep this promise. Probably not. But it made Virgil nod and square his shoulders, so it was alright.

Virgil's ascent was a slow and painful one. Every time he reached a slightly solid area, he paused to take several deep breaths. Patton recognized the pattern as 4-7-8. He felt really bad for Virgil—Virgil always hated heights, and he'd had a super rough week, and having dragons nearby was probably even worse for him than it was for Patton—but Virgil continued to be so much stronger than Patton gave him credit for. Virgil kept climbing. He swore once in a while, and Remus swore merrily back as if singing a call-and-response, and once Virgil's foot slipped and he was left dangling, eyes wide. Remus jumped back down towards him and grabbed his hand, and Logan grabbed Remus' hand, and as a little chain they helped Virgil back to his feet and pulled him up to the top.

That left Patton and Janus standing on the bridge together. Patton glanced down at the dragons below them. For a second he thought he saw a flash of black eyes, but when he looked again, all of them were still asleep.

"You or me?" Patton asked Janus.

Janus just indicated Patton with a smile.

Patton nodded, took a deep breath, and stared at the wall. He tried to remember where everyone else had started. Logan put his foot _there_ , right? And Virgil put his hand _there_. But Logan and Virgil were both taller than Patton, and Remus had started all the way over there, and—

Patton shook himself. He'd just have to play this by ear. He reached out and grabbed a knobbly bit at roughly eye level and jammed his foot into a ledge. It slipped a bit but held firm. He pulled himself up and kicked at another outcrop nearby with his other foot. Two tries, but he hit it. He reached up with his left hand and ran it along the wall, looking for something to hold onto. A divot! He dug his fingers into it, accompanied with a spark of pain, and shifted his weight carefully.

This. This was…stressful. Wow.

Patton pressed himself closer to the rock and tried not to think. It was just a little climb. Over in a few seconds. His fingers were already growing sore. He wrapped his arm around a rock instead, using that to pull himself up further. His leg scraped against the stone and his foot struggled for purchase. His stomach dropped.

He hung there for a second, waiting to slip all the way.

Nothing. He'd wedged himself firmly enough into the rock.

Patton breathed out, looked up, and kept climbing.

He could hear Virgil muttering encouragements. Patton smiled to himself a bit. Sweat was already sticky at the back of his neck and making his handholds even more slippery. He'd have to hurry.

His knee bashed the wall and he swung to the side, losing his handhold and left dangling from one hand, his foot kicking wildly and his other one jammed so tightly that it was three seconds from twisting the ankle.

Patton bit back a yell.

He couldn't make any noise.

He shifted carefully and wiped his hand on his sleeve before grabbing a lip above him. Then he shuffled up, kicked off a little lump and used that to get his other foot on a ledge, pulled his whole arm over the lip, and felt a hand grab his elbow and another one take the back of his shirt.

Patton wondered if he should go limp or try and help. He settled for keeping himself steady and trying to keep climbing. With the support from his friends, every step was easier and he was able to throw another arm over the edge into the tunnel. He dangled there for a second, moving his feet around for a good purchase, and finally found one. He kicked off it, scraped his way over the lip, and rolled onto solid ground.

He'd done it.

He'd done it!

Patton jumped up and high-fived Virgil. His hand stung from the force of the high-five and the little cuts around his fingers, but he didn't care.

"Good job," Logan said, giving Patton a shoulder squeeze that was ridiculously comforting.

"Janny's turn." Remus bent down and watched as Janus glanced around. He sighed and pushed back his hair all the way. The burns were clear on his face, pink and mottled and dripping from his eye like tears. For some reason, though, Patton didn't feel the usual guilty disgust. They looked at home on his face. Just another part of Janus, yellow eyes and pink scars and long brown hair and a determined smirk as he started to climb.

Patton jumped from foot to foot as Janus made his way up. He was clearly practiced, but anything could happen! He wanted to lean over and grab Janus' hand and pull him up. Except Janus was still too far away, and Patton wouldn't be strong enough. Still. He wanted to. He didn't like Janus being the only one not safe, the only one not huddled in the tunnel entrance and basking in the darkness.

Janus' eyes were narrowed in concentration. He'd taken a sideways route that brought him around to the left, and it looked like he was starting to regret it. He had to kick off a rock, grab another rock, and balance on one foot as he stretched for a new handhold. Patton's breath caught in his throat. Janus didn't look too nervous—he could fly, after all—but if he fell and had to turn into a dragon, they'd _definitely_ be caught.

So close. Patton leaned forward and reached out a hand. It was only inches from Janus' own.

A low rumble from below.

Janus' eyes widened.

His hand slipped from the rocks. His foot skidded.

Patton threw himself forward. His hand collided with Janus'.

Janus' slipped away from him.

He grabbed at it wildly. No. _No._ He might be about to fall as well, but he _wasn't_ letting go.

His hand tightened. Janus' hand curled around his.

And an arm hauled Patton back from the edge before his momentum carried him over. Virgil. Face grim with determination. Janus dangled, holding onto Patton's hand so tightly Patton was sure he'd leave marks, swaying.

Patton reached down and grabbed Janus' wrist instead. It was thin and pale and cold and not enough to keep Janus upright.

But it was enough to keep Janus from falling, and that was all Janus needed.

One foot down on a small bit of rock. One arm curled around the lip of the entrance. And he swung himself up in an elegant motion, feet coming up and touching the stone. He rolled forward and managed to get to his feet in the middle of a roll. He brushed off his hands, tossed back his hair, and gave Patton a triumphant smile.

"You did it!" Patton squealed and clapped his hands. "Nice!"

"Guys?"

Patton turned to Logan, Remus and Virgil. They were staring over the edge with varying degrees of blind terror.

"We—" Virgil paused. "There's a problem."

Patton's heart stopped.

A blast of wind, stirring up the scent of ash and spice, and a flash of scales. A dragon was making its way up the side, hovering slowly, flapping their way higher. There was no chance of believing they wouldn't see them. Their dark teal eyes were locked onto the tunnel.

Janus swore. And Patton decided, screw it. He swore too.

"We need to run," Virgil said, backing away from the dragon. "We—"

"There's more." Logan looked up, eyes wide with terror. "They're all—"

Patton, feeling a sense of morbid curiosity, stepped forward and looked down. The dragons were all unfolding and starting to fly. It would be a beautiful sight, stretching wings and gleaming scales, if their eyes weren't trained on Patton.

Only the largest dragon—Mara—didn't move. She was watching Patton, but her head was still tucked between her claws, and she gave him a little wave of the tail. A mocking kind of wave. She didn't need to get up because they were dead anyway.

Patton swore again for good measure.

"Run!" Remus yelled, grabbing at Logan's sleeve. Logan obligingly turned and started to run. "They can't follow us in here!"

"Yes, they can." Janus shoved Virgil away from the edge. "They'll be waiting at the entrance too, I'm guessing. Run!"

"What about you?" Patton asked as the dragons started to circle them, clearly gearing up for a dive.

"I'm running interference." A smirk crossed Janus' face, and Patton hated it because it was such a Janus expression and a Janus thing to do and _no_ — "Don't worry. I'll catch up."

Patton grabbed for his hand, but he was gone. He bolted off the cliff without a second thought, and then there were wings, and a small dragon with black-and-yellow scales crashed into one of the blue dragons. A flash of wings. A slash of claws. They tumbled toward the ground together, another dragon swooping in to help, Janus twisting for the upper hand.

" _Janus!"_ Patton screamed.

That was a mistake. One of the dragons looked his way with piercing eyes and headed toward him. They needed only a few wingbeats to cross the whole heart. Patton stumbled backwards, grabbing for Sparky, trying to think of a good spell to keep himself safe.

Yellow.

Janus had let go of the blue dragon and grabbed at this one from below. It roared and slashed at him, and suddenly Janus' wings disappeared and he was human again. Small and falling between claws and twisting in midair.

And he was a dragon. Right before he hit the floor. He pulled off a last-minute swoop and sailed around to the back of the heart.

He was trying to keep them away from Patton.

"Run!" Virgil was yelling. He'd come back for Patton—of course he had. He was good like that. But Patton couldn't move. He needed to help Janus, he needed to—

A dragon plowed into Janus and sent them both tumbling. Dragons seemed to fight with their whole bodies, kicking and biting and slashing and sometimes even landing blows with their tails. They were _loud_ , too. Apart from the dull thumps when they hit the wall, they _roared_ and the sound tore into Patton's bones every time.

Janus kept pulling the same move. Get in close, shift to human, plummet until he caught himself last-minute. It made Patton's heart clench. Janus always looked so small when he did it. And he always caught himself but it was always just close enough to make Patton press his hand over his mouth.

Virgil was still tugging on Patton's sleeve, but it was less urgent. When Patton glanced at him, he saw that Virgil was staring too, a mix of respect and horror on his face.

There were three dragons. And only one Janus.

And Janus was the smallest there.

He was missing the floor by smaller and smaller increments.

"Run!" Patton screamed at him when he flew close to their ledge, a large rip in his wing, teeth bared. "Get back here and run!"

Janus shifted back and dropped like a stone again. He met Patton's eyes and mouthed 'Go.'

"Go!" Virgil repeated, tugging on Patton's shoulder. "He'll be fine, he's strong, we need to _go!"_

_When you need it most, your strength will fail you._

Patton's entire body went cold.

He stepped forward. Maybe he could attack. He had fire, right? And he'd burned dragons before, so what was stopping him now?

Memories, mostly. Memories of Janus collapsed in the courtyard.

And fear. Because Janus was too _close_ to all the dragons. He could hit Janus too. He could hurt Janus. He didn't want to do that.

Janus landed on the wall and flapped his wings, dodging and somersaulting back into a human. Small. Delicate. Even from here, Patton knew he was smirking.

A tail swept out, caught him in the ribs, and sent him flying. He hit the wall with a sickening crack.

This time it was Virgil who screamed.

Janus dropped twenty feet to the ground.

He pulled himself up with his arms. Then he stumbled. His hair covered his face as he collapsed again. This time, he didn't move.

Patton balled his fists. Before he knew what he was doing, Sparky was flying into the middle of the heart, heading straight for one of the dragons. It bobbed around the dragon's head, looking ridiculously small. But it was enough to get their attention. They sniffed at it curiously.

Another one was still advancing on Janus.

A crossbow bolt hit it in the shoulder. Virgil's eyes were narrowed. Another bolt flew and pinned its wing to the wall, tearing the delicate skin. The dragon screeched in pain and tried to dislodge it.

Janus pulled himself to his knees, pushing back his hair, curling his hands into fists.

But Patton couldn't help him.

A third dragon was flying straight for Patton and Virgil. Claws outstretched. Eyes narrowed. Wings wide.

On the ground, Mara seemed to smile.

Patton grabbed Virgil's arm and pulled him back. Sparky swung back towards them. He stumbled into the tunnel. It wouldn't be enough. The dragon could shapeshift and grab them, they couldn't get away in time—

He dropped to his knees, ran his hand along the damp floor, and _wrenched_ at something inside of him.

Not a simple tug. He grabbed at everything he had and _forced_ it to the surface.

Flames erupted between them. Blue and angry and white-hot, filling the whole tunnel like a skein, like a burning door.

He couldn't see past it.

He couldn't see if Janus was okay.

All he could see was Virgil, crossbow still raised, eyes dancing with the fire in front of them.

"Run," Patton said weakly. "We should probably run. I don't know—how long I can hold this—"

Virgil took one shaky step backward. "But now he can't—"

"It won't hurt him," Patton said, pretending to be certain. It was _his_ magic, and Patton wouldn't hurt Janus. Except for the time he _did_.

The blue glow was painful to look at. But Patton couldn't look away. The stones beneath it were starting to bubble from the heat. It licked at the ceiling, not leaving its line but about to, straining at the seams and wanting to let loose, roar through the Mountain, destroy everyone inside.

Patton wasn't about to leave _that_ unchecked.

Thank heavens, he had an excuse to stay.

He heard footsteps behind him. Logan and Remus. They'd come back, because of course they had, their eyes wide.

"What is _that?"_ Remus asked. "How—where's—"

"He's, um…" Virgil pointed at the fire. "Past there."

Patton tried to make a gap in the fire to see better. For a second, he thought he saw a dragon lunging at the tunnel. The next second, he lost control and the fire rose, leaving him with nothing but blue light and finicky magic and the memories of the way Janus dropped to the ground like a bird with clipped wings.

"Janus," he whispered. "Janus, Janus, be okay, please be okay…"

"We should be running," Logan said.

"Then run!" Virgil's knuckles whitened. "We'll head them off. We'll need a backup defense in case—"

In case Janus wasn't enough.

In case Janus wasn't…

"I'm staying," Patton said without hesitation. "At least…at least for a little while longer. You guys go ahead, okay? We'll catch up soon."

Logan and Remus glanced at each other. "There's bound to be a bunch of dragons at the end of this tunnel, too," Remus pointed out. "So, um—"

Virgil instinctively turned to them. Then he glanced back at the fire.

"Go," Patton encouraged. "I'll hold them off. As soon as Janus gets here, I'll leave."

Virgil bit his lip. "And…if he doesn't?"

"He will." Patton swallowed. "He's got to."

"Well, if anyone can do it, he can." Virgil sighed and gave Patton a quick hug. "We'll be up the path."

"Good luck," Patton said. He suddenly found himself filled with other things he wanted to say, but that would make this feel too final. They'd be reuniting soon. Hopefully. Definitely! Probably. Maybe.

Virgil gave Patton a little salute and ran down the tunnel, Logan and Remus at his heels. It took them only a few seconds to get out of sight.

Patton felt very alone.

He turned back to his fire and tried to focus on the warmth of it. All he got was pure _heat_ —rage and worry and fear and guilt making his fire spin almost out of control. He gritted his teeth, held out his hands, and kept it in. Would it be enough to stop a dragon? Would it be too much to let Janus through? Would—would Janus even make it to the tunnel?

Patton closed his eyes and listened hard.

An occasional roar. That meant they were still fighting. Janus was alive. For now, at least.

Patton had to check on him. He _had_ to.

But he'd have to bring down the fire. He wasn't sure if he even _could_. It was straining at his fingertips. One wrong move and it would roar through the Mountain. There was a reason none of the dragons had used their fire breath.

Patton's breath hitched, and he realized he was going to cry. He was tired and cold and scared and hoping against hope that Janus was alright. And he wasn't running forward to help, and he wasn't joining the others to escape, he was just frozen in the middle of a dark tunnel and hoping Janus would make the choice for him.

Just to see if he could, Patton lowered the fire.

He couldn't.

It just sprang into place like a jack-in-the-box. He'd put fire there and it didn't want to go out.

Patton was going to have to get rid of it eventually. He couldn't keep this up forever. His arms were starting to shake. But if he couldn't make it leave entirely, it'd just keep burning, and then everyone would get hurt and it'd be _his fault_ and Janus was _right_ , he couldn't control his magic, he didn't want to be the only one between the world and _fire_ —

Patton glanced behind him down the tunnel. Nobody. It was empty and dark and silent. He couldn't even hear sounds of combat, which was probably a good thing, because it meant they hadn't needed to fight.

Or they'd already fought and lost.

A less-good thing. One that Patton decided not to think about.

On the bright side, he still heard roars from beyond the fire. Janus was still putting up a fight. But when Mara stopped toying with him and he ran out of luck, it was over. Patton knew that much.

Sparky rolled around his feet. He'd completely forgotten the little guy. He glanced between it and the fire—Sparky, unlike his gate of flames, didn't seem to run the risk of exploding and dooming them all.

Patton kicked Sparky through the barrier.

It'd find Janus.

It was _Patton's_ magic, after all. And in little amounts like that, he trusted it.

It would find Janus, and help him, and maybe bring him back.

Or maybe not.

Patton should be running by now. He had a feeling if he didn't run now, it would be too late to escape. And he needed to escape.

Just not without Janus.

He wasn't going to leave without Jan.

Patton dug his feet into the stone and maintained the fire. Sweat beaded down his forehead. Was this even worth it? Nobody had tried to attack through the fire. Maybe that was because it had been warded off. Or maybe their attention was focused on Janus, and maybe they had enough people at the other end of the tunnel to know that Patton and the others were trapped—

Patton kept the fire going. It was all he could do.

He stared into the flames until he saw spots, and he muttered Janus' name to himself like it was a spell, and maybe it _was_ because every time he thought of Janus in trouble his resolve strengthened.

"Come on," Patton whispered. If any moment in his life had Fae luck involved, he wanted it to be this one. "You can do it, come back, you _can_ —"

A loud roar. It wasn't Janus'. Patton's hands shook and he squared his shoulders.

"Come on, please, come on—"

Silence. Dead silence except for him and the fire. A tear clung to his lashes and his throat ached. He blinked it away.

Wind blasted through the tunnel. The fire stuttered, and for a second, Patton saw the dark expanse of dragon wings.

He raised his hands.

A slim figure tumbled through the fire, landing on his knees.

Patton almost sobbed in relief. He ran over and grabbed Janus' arms, pulling him upright. Sparky bobbed around their legs and the fire behind them raged.

Patton only had eyes for Janus. There was a bruise under his left eye and a bit of blood dripped from his mouth. His scar seemed to have been agitated again, judging by the angry red edges. He looked almost wild. Like his instinct had been to swat Patton away and run.

"You're okay?" Patton asked.

"Yes." Janus reached up and brushed Patton's bangs aside. "You're okay."

Patton smiled. "Yeah."

Janus smiled back for a millisecond. Then determination took its place. "Run. Now!"

Patton didn't have a chance to ask questions. Janus' hand was in his own and he was tugged along, forced to run because he'd fall if he didn't. He turned to look at the fire, which was already spreading, leaking and spilling down the tunnel almost like water. He waved a desperate hand at it, again and again.

"Go out!" he yelled at it. "Go _out!"_

He didn't want to burn in here.

A desperate _tug_ that sliced into his bones, pulled at all his muscles, and scraped at power Patton didn't know he had.

The fire winked out like it had never been there at all.

Patton turned around and kept running.

Sparky was their only light. It illuminated Janus' face and the steps ahead of them, although Janus didn't seem to need it, based on the way he jumped neatly from rock to rock. Janus was usually faster than Patton. Patton should be struggling to keep up. But it was Patton who was pushing ahead of him, Patton who found himself tugging Janus along.

Janus had one hand in Patton's. His other arm was pressed to his side.

Patton looked back and thought he saw blood on the stones.

That wasn't good.

But he didn't have time to think about it. He was running. He was running down a dark tunnel to who-knew-what and he needed to focus on his footsteps. He was leading Janus. He was getting them out of here. He couldn't be distracted. He needed to watch his step.

The tunnel seemed endless. Patton's side began to ache and his feet stumbled over each other. But Janus was still going, and Janus was possibly hurt, so if he could do it Patton could too.

A loud noise behind them. And then footsteps. Footsteps far faster than theirs.

Patton turned around and tossed a hand at the shadow lurking behind them.

A bright spurt of fire. It lasted for two seconds, a little arc of flames, reminding Patton of dragonfire.

He turned around and kept running.

And he realized he could see where he was going.

Up ahead was a pinprick of light. As Patton ran toward it, it grew larger and larger. Blue sky. A few clouds. And the silhouette of someone Patton knew very well.

Hand in hand, Janus and him bolted for the exit.

Light. So much light. Patton couldn't see for the brightness. He covered his eyes and skidded to a stop, Janus' hand still in his.

He'd forgotten what daylight felt like. Warm and scorching and oppressively _everywhere_ , like he'd walked into a wall of heat and sun and now it pressed down on him as it fell.

"You're back!" Virgil blurted out.

Patton cracked one eye open, then the other. Virgil and Logan and Remus were standing at the edge of the mountain, staring down a crumbled incline to the thorns far below. It was a sunny day and the blue sky was all around them, wind sweeping their hair and the thorns and the trees of the Iron Woods, far in the distance. They looked like a green carpet. Then there was the angry slash of the canyon, then the sprawling brown thorns. Then the steep gray sides of the Mountain itself. Then Virgil and Logan and Remus, fists curled, Virgil firing a crossbow at—

Oh. There were dragons here, too. They weren't approaching yet, maybe figuring they couldn't get a good grab at human-sized humans, but flying in lazy circles like vultures.

Virgil hit one in the flank. It barely flinched.

Patton took a deep breath and looked out at the Woods in the distance. They shimmered in the sun. Something in his gut twisted.

"We have to go there," he said almost without thinking. "Get to the Woods, and we'll be safe."

"You're kidding," Virgil said. "The Woods are not _safe_."

"Pat's right." Janus stepped forward. In the light of the sun, his bruise was purple and green down his face, and Patton noticed a dark stain around the place his arm met his side. "I can't fly anyone to the town in one go, and they won't follow us in there."

"Yeah, because it's deadly," Remus pointed out.

"We survived it last time!" Patton shrugged. "And I have a feeling we'll be fine if I'm there."

Virgil gave Patton a weird look, which Patton ignored.

"So what now?" Logan watched the dragons circle above them. Patton remembered the gryphons from the cliff and shuddered. "They'll dive if we attempt anything."

"We'll have to make it quick." Janus looked around and tightened his jaw. "Maybe I can take all four of you if I try—"

"And be fast enough?" Virgil asked.

"And not have anyone fall off?" Remus added.

"You're _injured!"_ Patton cut in.

"I'm not—" Janus shifted and winced. "It's not that bad."

Patton stared at him incredulously. "Not that—?"

Logan stepped around and pulled Janus' hand away from his side. It came away sticky with blood. Janus swallowed. His whole shirt was shredded and blood dripped from a nasty cut down his side, trickling down his leg and splashing to the ground. Now that they were in the light, Patton could see the pain on his face, sharp and tight and buried.

Virgil swore. Remus did the same.

"Jan…" Patton reached out.

"It isn't important right now," Janus said, sidestepping Patton's hand. "What's important is how we're going to do this. The moment I transform, we'll have several dragons on me, so we have to make this quick and decisive."

"You said you can carry two people?" Logan asked.

"Yeah." Janus glanced at the dragons above them. "Maybe three, but I'd have to carry one in my claws, and that'd be pushing my limits."

"Understandable." Logan worried his lip in the way he always did when he'd thought of an answer he knew nobody would like. "So we'll have to take turns. And I hate to put it this way, but the people who are the least qualified to fight off dragons…"

"Are you and Remus." Virgil nodded. "Yeah."

"We can still stay!" Remus picked up a rock. "I can throw rocks at them, it'll be fine—"

"No." Patton shook his head. "Guys, _go_. We'll hold them off."

A dragon dipped too close to them. Virgil fired a bolt. He was running out of them—Patton could see it—and he looked exhausted. And Patton himself was feeling scratchy and tired and out of control. He didn't know what would happen if he tried to use magic again. Maybe it wouldn't work. Maybe it would work too well and burn the whole Mountain with him inside of it.

Janus stepped closer to Patton.

"You realize," Janus murmured, "that there's a good chance I won't be able to come back for you."

"It'll be fine," Patton said, pretending to believe that.

"Patton," Janus pleaded, his fingers closing around Patton's hand. "I—the path through the thorns is twisting, but flying over it will still take me twenty minutes. More, if I'm carrying people. You _can't_ hold them off for that long, no one can—"

"What are you suggesting?" Patton whispered. Virgil fired another bolt. It hit a dragon square in the wings and sent them tumbling, but more took their place, scales brighter than the sun. "I take Logan's place? Or Remus'? They can't hold them off, they've spent a week getting thrown at walls—"

"I'm saying to really _think_ about this." Janus' eyes were wide. "To make sure you really _want_ to stay behind with Virgil. Please, think this through."

Patton looked back at Logan and Remus. Remus was dutifully chucking rocks at the dragons, although none of them met their mark. Logan was tapping his fingers on his leg and investigating the route back.

He'd come so far to rescue them. They were his best friends.

Patton looked at Virgil. Virgil was aiming his crossbow at the clouds. Virgil was standing firm but Patton could see the shake in his hands. He was terrified. This was his worst nightmare and he was choosing to stay behind anyway. Because he wanted to help his friends escape.

Patton swallowed.

Did he want this?

Patton looked at Janus. Still bleeding, the dark red spreading through his yellow shirt, his hair hanging around his face, his burns angry and muddled, his mouth slightly parted and his hand still squeezing Patton's like he was scared to let go.

Logan-Remus-Virgil-Janus-Patton. A life for another, a spot for another, fighting and fleeing and whether that made you a coward or a hero, good or bad, right or wrong.

Patton shook his head. It wasn't about that now. It wasn't about being selfless for the sake of being selfless. It was about what he wanted.

And he found, deep down, that he wanted to live.

But he also cared for his friends.

And he found, when he weighed the options? They didn't even come close.

"Go," Patton blurted out, letting go of Janus' hand. "There's not much time."

"I'll come back," Janus said. It was desperate, not the kind of slick reassurance he usually gave.

"I know you'll try." Patton pressed his lips together. "But…don't."

Janus looked at him and opened his mouth to respond.

"They're closing in!" Virgil yelled. "We gotta do this!"

Patton nodded and tugged Janus to the edge. Janus glanced up at the dragons, steeled himself, and slipped off the ledge. Patton glanced at Logan and Remus, who moved into position. He summoned Sparky to his hands and let fire twist around his fingers, ready to be let loose. It already felt rough and raw and unpracticed and dangerous. But he didn't have any other options.

A dragon dove. A crossbow bolt stopped it in midair.

Janus hovered by their little ledge, wings flapping, blood dripping from a large gash in his scales. Logan paused and slipped between his haunches. Remus jumped on behind him. Another dragon swiped at them. Patton threw Sparky in its face. Sparky exploded.

Well. So much for Sparky, then.

Janus was still hovering. As if he couldn't bear to leave just yet.

Which suited Patton perfectly.

He ran to the edge, standing next to Virgil, who was swiveling his crossbow in every direction like he was loosing invisible bolts.

"Janus!" Patton yelled.

Janus' eyes watched him. Warm and yellow.

"Take them home! Don't come back!" Patton paused and shot a bit of fire at an approaching dragon. He stumbled and almost fell off the Mountain entirely. But it was alright. They just needed a little more time.

Virgil was staring at Patton. Patton didn't look at him. It'd make this harder if he did.

"Keep flying," Patton yelled. "Jan, just go. And catch him, okay? I'm sorry! But I know you can, I trust you—catch him!"

Janus' eyes were unreadable. Because he was a dragon. But Logan and Remus and Virgil were all staring at Patton with varying degrees of horror.

Whatever. Screw them. This was the right thing—no.

No, it wasn't about that.

This was what Patton wanted to do. He wanted to keep his friends safe. And maybe Janus would come back for him anyway—Janus was so good like that. If anyone could do it, Janus could, and if Janus didn't get hurt in the process Patton was okay with it.

As long as he took the others to safety first.

As long as he listened.

Janus would listen. Janus was good like that.

"Pat?" Virgil asked as Janus stayed in place, hovering. Janus had figured it out, probably. He was so smart. "Pat, what're you—"

Before Virgil could finish the question, Patton smiled.

"I love you." Tears clustered at the edge of Patton's lashes, ready to fall at a moment's noticed. "I love you, kiddo. So much."

Virgil's eyes widened. "Pat—"

Patton shoved Virgil in the small of his back.

He toppled forward and plummeted off the Mountain, a little black figure against the gray. He'd fallen right past Janus. Patton's heart stopped.

Janus dove after him.

He'd need luck to catch Virgil in time.

Luck was all Patton had to give.

Janus dove, a streak of black and yellow, and Virgil fell, hand reaching up like he could take Patton's and keep himself steady.

Janus' claws extended.

And he grabbed Virgil. The same smooth motion from so long ago, when Logan and Remus had disappeared from the courtyard. A swift little steal. Virgil dangled from Janus' claws. Janus dropped a few inches but his wings gripped the air and pulled him forward.

"Go!" Patton screamed at them.

He threw his hands into the air. Dragons were diving, dragons were attacking, and Patton threw everything he had at them. Patton let go. He let the burning inside of him finally escape.

Fire.

Fire bursting in midair.

Fire lighting up the sky and dancing around the clouds.

Fire trickling down the Mountain, filling each crevice in each rock, spreading into the tunnel behind him and spiraling up to the peak.

Fire shielding Janus as he flew, two figures on his back and one in his claws, between arcs of dragonfire and Patton's magic.

Fire against fire. They clashed in midair, yellow-orange against blue, and sparks flew into the clouds.

There was no smoke. There wasn't any smoke except Patton was still struggling to breathe.

Fire streamed out of his fingertips in a flood.

He couldn't stop himself.

Fire licked at his clothes and cascaded from his shoulders and pooled at his feet. The heat was almost enough to kill him, probably, except Patton couldn't die by his own magic.

Another reason why he needed Virgil out of here.

This way, nobody else would get hurt.

Janus was far over the thorns now. He gleamed in the sun. _Beautiful,_ Patton thought, and didn't stop himself, because he might never get a chance to enjoy the thought again. Janus was beautiful. And powerful, and so helpful, and was probably going to try and rescue Patton anyway. Hopefully, common sense would prevail, to use Logan's terms. Logan would talk Janus out of it. And they'd all be safe.

Fire all around him, exploding and curling and burning itself into existence, searing his chest and sending black spots dancing all around him.

He was going out.

Going out like a bonfire, a marshmallow held over a campfire in the Woods at night. Burned and blackened and losing all its light.

Patton wondered if the fire would stop when he collapsed.

It was hard to think.

There was no smoke, but his face was still wet with tears, and his lungs still stung with every breath.

There was no smoke, but Patton couldn't see.

Fire. Fire everywhere, unspooling from him, scraping at his heart and digging every last bit of flame from his body.

Maybe he'd never be able to use magic again. Maybe he'd used it all up. It definitely felt that way now. He was a comet about to make landfall. All this power he'd barely known of, and he was throwing it all away.

It didn't matter, though, since time was running out.

Janus was far away. Not far away enough. Not close enough to the Woods.

Not safe, not yet, so Patton screamed and pulled the last bits of fire from his body.

Every pocket of the world was in flames.

Every rock in the Mountain was melting.

Every piece of Patton was on fire and screaming and blackening and he was going to _die_ if he kept this up—

That'd be the right thing to do. To keep going until he died, until he became just another part of the fire leaping up to touch the sky.

Janus was far. Not safe, not yet, but far enough.

Janus could handle this.

Patton wasn't going to die. Not like this. Not now.

He had to save some light for himself.

He had to save them.

But he could save himself, too.

Patton closed his eyes.

The fire went out in a huff of nothing. No smoke, no wind. It just winked out in his palm. Maybe all the fire was gone. Maybe the Mountain still burned with blue light. Who knew.

Patton didn't really care.

He was stumbling. He should push himself back from the edge. But he couldn't see, and all his muscles were burned up and all his fingers were limp.

He fell. Wind, sky, bursts of fire behind his eyelids.

Everything was going black. That was funny. Everything had been blue earlier.

Patton giggled.

He'd been falling for an awfully long time.

But it was fine. Janus would catch him.

Black crowded at his vision and fire streamed off his body.

It was fine.

He'd solve everything later. He'd catch himself soon.

For now, he was going to sleep.

Because no nightmares anymore. The dark was safe that way.

The dark was all around him, and Patton had been sure it was the middle of the day, but he didn't waste time thinking about it.

He slipped into unconsciousness.

And he fell down the Mountain, flames leaping up to meet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it do be like that sometimes


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: threats, manipulation, fantasy racism, implied child abuse, fantasy violence, blood and injury,

Patton was getting tired of waking up in strange places.

This one was also pretty low on his list, because of the comfort level. He was sitting on a rock, tied to another rock, and his head was bumped up against a third rock. So many rocks. Didn't they have any chairs?

And wasn't he supposed to be, like, outside? He had a feeling he'd started off outside. Maybe falling. How'd he get in here?

"I caught you."

Oh, he'd asked it out loud. Or mysterious voice was a mind-reader. They'd caught him! That was good. Maybe. He wasn't sure, really. It all depended on who it was.

Patton hesitantly opened his eyes.

"You're awake," said a woman with greying hair and piercing black eyes.

"I don't really feel awake," Patton mumbled, trying to shake the clouds from his head. He knew her. Didn't he? "Gimme a sec. Sorry, I've been knocked out a lot recently."

The woman smiled a bit. "Of course."

Patton shook his head a few more times and counted backwards from a hundred. The world around him came into focus. He was in a huge chamber he recognized as the heart of the Mountain. Around him were a few bits of gold and some velvet-lined books. And in the center of it was the dragon, hands folded in her lap, sitting on a wooden straightbacked chair and eyeing Patton like he was a fly she wanted to swat.

"Wait." Patton's awareness crashed back into him. It felt like being doused in cold water. "You're Mara."

Mara smiled again. He didn't like her smile much. It was out of practice, like she'd learned the muscles but not the feeling. "My reputation precedes me."

"You're—" Patton stumbled over his questions. He tugged at the ropes around him. "Where am I? What'd you do to my friends?"

"Calm down, I don't want to deal with you throwing a fit." Mara's lip curled. "Despite my best efforts, your 'friends' are perfectly fine."

"They're—" Relief swept through Patton. "They're safe."

"In a manner of speaking," Mara said. "Of course, I've sent most of the dragons after them, so that may not be the case for very much longer."

Patton swallowed. If Janus got to the Iron Woods, they'd be fine. They'd be fine. He had to believe that.

It took two tries to get his throat unstuck. "And—and me?"

Mara's face was impassive. "You."

"You could have killed me." Patton shook his head. "You could have _let_ me die—I was falling! You should have—why did you catch me?"

"Take a wild guess."

"Um." Patton would have guessed kindness and mercy, but from the glare Mara was giving him, he doubted it. "I'm drawing a blank, honestly."

"Hmm." Mara looked vaguely annoyed. "I suppose I'll have to explain, then." She spread her hands. "Put simply: you are a Faerie."

"What?" Patton paused. "Oh. I mean, I guess? Partially. Yeah."

"You are. And that intrigues me, I have to admit." Mara toyed with the edge of her sleeve. "We don't have many Fae around here."

Patton tried to smile. "I'm sure if you asked, they'd stop by!"

"We haven't asked and we don't wish to." Mara's voice was clipped. "The Fae are our mortal enemy."

"What—all of them?" Patton shifted sheepishly and tried to tug at his ropes without Mara seeing. "'Cause, um, I don't have anything against you guys! Except for the friend-kidnapped part. But I'm friends with one of you, so—"

"Janus. I'm aware." Mara's face twisted. "Ridiculous."

Patton glared at her defensively. "What's ridiculous?"

"You." Mara waved a hand at him. "All of you. You're a Faerie, yet you wander into our domain and are easily captured. You're a Faerie, yet you speak to me like a child would."

During her speech, Patton placed a hand on his ropes and tried to summon a small amount of fire. It felt like forcing an exhausted, atrophied muscle back to use. A flicker of sparks and the rope began to blacken. He pulled his hand out of Mara's sight and started to burn through the ropes around his hands.

"You're a Faerie," Mara continued, spitting the word every time she said it, "yet you somehow manage to manipulate one of our _own_ into befriending you."

"I didn't manipulate him! He's my friend!" Patton paused. "I don't manipulate. Janus does sometimes, so if anyone did any manipulation it'd be him, and he didn't. Well, not very much."

He was rambling. He knew that. But he needed to buy enough time to burn through his ropes. After that—well, who knew? Maybe he could set the Mountain on fire again, but he had a feeling if he tried that again, he actually _would_ die.

"Forgive me for not believing you." Mara's glare was hard and icy. Patton remembered the woman they'd met on the outskirts of the Wood days ago. "I shouldn't be listening to you at all—silver tongued, each and every one. Tricksters."

"Again. Um. I'm not really any of those things." Patton took a deep breath. "And…I don't mean to keep bringing this up, but if you don't trust me, why am I here?"

Mara was silent for a long moment. Patton stopped trying to burn away his bindings, because she was looking at him carefully and he figured she'd be able to tell.

"I'm curious," Mara finally said. "Curious how you managed to survive the Woods. Curious whether you or any of your allies pose any threat to us in the future. And curious whether any Fae would strike a deal to get you back."

"Um," Patton said, starting to work on the ropes around his shoulders. "For the first one, luck, mostly? And my friends. Second one, probably not? We'll leave you alone if you do the same! And the third…um, no. I don't—I'm just a little bit Fae. I've only met one other and she wasn't very nice."

"Hmm. Disappointing." Mara narrowed her eyes. "What's the extent of your magic?"

A direct question. Crap.

"Fire manipulation, compulsive honesty, and a bit of magical luck!"

"Compulsive honesty," Mara repeated.

"I mean." Patton paused. "No? No honesty? So little honesty. Definitely no honesty."

"You definitely don't seem very powerful," Mara mused. "And although you know my name, you've done nothing with it. Besides, Janus managed to not be killed by you and he's hardly a powerhouse, so I can only assume you're not a threat."

"Don't talk about Janus like that."

Mara raised an eyebrow, and Patton felt that for the first time, he'd gotten her full attention.

"Fiery words. Fiery words for a fiery Faerie, I suppose." Her voice took on a dangerous edge, a knife suspended by a string, one move away from falling. "You should know better than to talk back in this kind of situation."

Patton shrugged. A rope fell apart behind him and he pulled the ends together, reaching one hand to start on another. "I don't have much to lose, do I?"

"Touché." Mara shrugged. "But if you cooperate, I could make this a bit more painless."

"What's 'this?'" Patton asked warily, pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer.

"I haven't decided yet." Mara leaned in conspiratorially. "I am a fan of acid, though."

"What'd I do to you?" Patton burst out. "Why are you—you're going to kill me. For what? I really want to know what I did."

He didn't, actually, but buying time was the only weapon he had left. That and the meager fire that seared through the ropes around his ankles as he spoke.

Mara actually looked taken aback. "Well—you stole two servants and one of our own after trespassing in our Mountain—"

Patton frowned. "That's not it, though. You're lying."

Mara growled at him. "I am not lying!"

"You're scared," Patton realized. "You're scared of me!"

That should have made him feel bad. And it did, a little bit. But mostly, it made him feel warm with confidence. He had a bargaining tool here. He wasn't completely powerless.

He'd scared someone.

And it wasn't himself for a change.

"You are," Patton said to her, trying out the words. "You're all angry like Virgil and Jan get when they're scared! You think I'm a threat!"

"I do _not!"_ Mara snarled at him. "You could not possibly defeat me, you puny, insignificant—"

"No, I can't," Patton agreed. "But you're worried everyone else will think that I could."

Mara's face contorted. "I would stop talking, if I were you."

Patton didn't. "Janus was always scared to open up to us. He thought we'd hurt him if we knew he _could_ be hurt. Are you like that? Are you scared everyone will think you're weak if you don't prove otherwise?"

"That's enough!" Mara yelled. She took a breath and composed herself. "I've had about enough of this. You're coming with me and I'm going to make you regret being born."

"Wait!" Patton blurted out. He still had two ropes to work through. "Um…how old are you?"

"I have no idea how that's relevant."

"I'm curious." Patton looked at her carefully. "You seem on the older side. Do you…do you remember how things were? Before the Woods?"

For a second, he was sure Mara would grab him and pull him along without answering. But then her eyebrows pulled together. "Dimly."

"You _were_ alive!" Patton exclaimed as fire snapped another rope behind him. "Can you tell me? About the Woods, about you guys, about…about who created them?"

"They were made by a Faerie," Mara said, as if it was something she'd repeated many times before. "That's all we've bothered to remember."

Patton bit his lip. "I bet you remember more than that."

"They were made by a Faerie." Mara's hand curled around her wrist. "They keep us trapped here. And we trap them in return, with our stolen iron, because magic always strains to be free." She paused, as if thinking through what to say. "Magic is like fire, I think you'd understand that—it yearns to be out of control and to spread as much as possible. Sometimes this leads to destruction, sometimes creation, sometimes good and sometimes evil. Magic isn't inherently monstrous, nor is anything. It's simply a tool. It wants to exist and it wants to grow."

"Yeah." Patton nodded. "I—I know."

"Yet it does destroy," Mara added, "if it's let too loose. Let magic run wild, and this whole world would be consumed by it."

Patton paused. "Would that really be so bad?"

"Spoken like a true Faerie." Mara's lip curled in disgust. "As you tried to ignite our home, I don't think you'd understand."

"Um, sorry about that," Patton said. "And…but…it was like that for a while, right? There was magic everywhere once, and things were fine, weren't they?"

"Once," Mara agreed, "and for a while. The world has changed."

"It could change back." Patton didn't know where the words were coming from, but he knew they were true, just as much as he knew he was running out of time. "I think the magic would like a little more space. Just a bit."

"And what do you propose? It destroys us all and wipes out our kind? The Fae—" Mara waved a hand at Patton. "—take our place like they've always clamored to do?"

"It's not you versus them," Patton said.

"It's always us versus them." Mara scoffed. "It's been us versus _the world_ ever since—"

"—ever since the magic was sealed off," Patton finished. "And…and that's done. And it can't be undone. The past is the past. But we can still change it, we can still—we can still learn from it. We don't have to keep acting out our parts just because the story's already been written. We can cross out some bits and make things a little better."

The ropes fell away. He held them in place and tried to look trapped. It wasn't hard. Mara wasn't staring at his hands—she was listening. She was actually _listening_.

"I met someone in the Woods," Patton continued, his voice a little shaky, but still strong. "And she told me that—that the Woods are a prison. There's not enough space. And the Woods are a threat to you, something you have to contain—you're risking your lives for this iron. And the Woods, for us, are something we don't understand." He leaned forward. "Maybe there's not a way to fix everything for everyone. But if we sit down and do nothing, nothing'll ever get better. Nothing'll ever change."

Mara was silent for a long time. "I don't understand what you're asking."

Patton threw everything on the table. "I'm asking you to let me go. I'm asking you to give me a chance. Please."

Mara watched him for a second longer.

Then a wall slammed over her face. "I can't afford to do that."

"But if you—"

"I have killed for this position." Mara spread her hands. They were jointed and wide like dragon wings. "I have burned towns to keep my family alive, my position alive—I have clawed my way to the top and I will not be brought back down with lies and cheap magic tricks." She leaned forward and traced a finger down Patton's chin. "You are nothing to me. You are a little mockery of the magic that chained us here with nothing but our own scales and wings to survive with. I will not be denied, I will not be destroyed, and I will not be lectured by a _Faerie_."

"I—" Patton jerked his head away from her. "I am a Faerie. But…I'm not your enemy. Janus—"

"—is a complete and utter disappointment if he keeps the likes of you as company." Mara rolled her eyes. "Frankly, I'm glad you took him—he's not the type I want sticking around here."

Anger flared in Patton's chest and the secret fire in his hands flared with it. "Don't talk about him like that!"

"What?" Mara asked. "It's the truth. From what I've seen of him, he's never been strong enough to make a name for himself."

Patton pulled up his chin. "Well, I think he's way stronger than you."

Mara stared at him and clapped her hands. "Congratulations. Just for that, your death is going to be painful. I hope you—"

She cut herself off. Patton stared at her. Her face was slack.

She lifted one arm and touched her shoulder. It was dripping blood.

A crossbow bolt had sunk into it.

Mara staggered to her knees, grabbing at the bolt and yanking it out with a horrifying squelch. Patton quickly burned the rest of his ropes and tore them off, tossing them on top of Mara for good measure. He rubbed his wrists as he clambered to his feet and looked around, barely daring to hope.

"Come on!" Virgil yelled from a nearby tunnel.

Patton's face split into a grin. He ran over and Virgil grabbed his hand, pulling him into the darkness. And they ran.

Running with Virgil was different than Janus, because Virgil always slowed down when Patton did. It was up to Patton to keep the pace, which was hard when it was so dark. He snapped his fingers. After three tries, Sparky tore itself into existence, bobbing in front of them and leading the way.

Behind them, Patton heard the roar of a dragon.

Virgil looked back, swore, and ran faster.

"You came back," Patton blurted out. He shouldn't be wasting his breath, he knew that, but having Virgil holding his hand and tearing down the hallways with him made a million emotions jostle for position in his chest. "How did you—"

"Janus," Virgil huffed. He reached for his bolts. "Dammit, that was my last one!"

"Janus?" Patton started to ask. A burst of fire curled in the air above him. He shrieked and shoved Virgil forward, and they both somehow managed to run even faster.

It wouldn't be enough. And even when they got out, they wouldn't be safe. This wasn't safe. How were they even _here?_

Patton opened his mouth to ask. Or maybe thank Virgil. No words came—he was entirely out of breath. He tried to blast some fire behind them. Nothing.

Light up ahead.

Virgil somehow found a reserve of superhuman speed and tugged Patton ahead. Right onto the ledge, and before Patton could appreciate the view of circling dragons and distant Woods, they were falling.

Patton's scream was whipped away from him.

A flash of scales. Familiar, yellow and black scales.

Patton landed with a jolt on the back of a dragon.

Virgil was ahead of him, groaning. "Come on," he complained as the dragon wheeled away from the Mountain. "That _hurt_. Couldn't you get any farther up?"

Janus snorted and shook his head just enough to make Virgil slip a bit.

"Okay, fine!" Virgil screeched. "I'm sorry! Don't let me fall!"

Janus snorted again and flew faster. Dragons were already clustered on the edges. Patton, for his part, was very sore and still a little groggy and had next-to-no idea what was happening. He shot a bit of fire in the general direction of their pursuers, hoping it would scare them off.

"Bank left!" Virgil yelled as a dark maroon dragon came in, claws extended. Janus narrowed his wings and plunged to the left, dropping almost fifty feet. Virgil shrieked. Patton grabbed the scales for dear life. He was situated in the middle, with Virgil next to him, feet digging into the scales on either side. He hoped this wasn't hurting Janus too much.

"I told you to _bank!"_ Virgil thwacked Janus on the shoulder. "That was a dive! Don't dive! That scares me!"

Janus spat a bit of fire at an approaching dragon and let it curl back around to Virgil. Virgil hissed and flipped Janus off, which was strange, since Virgil was also clinging onto him for dear life.

Patton looked around at everything. Blue sky, fluffy clouds, steep gray sides of the Mountain growing more and more distant, dragons flanking them like a parade, shining bright as beads in the midday sun.

And Virgil and Janus. Virgil sitting on Janus' back like he'd done it all his life, wind whipping his hair and hoodie, empty crossbow strapped to his back and eyes narrowed.

"You…" Patton tapped Virgil's shoulder to get his attention—it was loud up here, what with all the wind and yelling and roars behind them. Virgil turned around. "You're riding a dragon."

"Don't remind me," Virgil said, his hands tightening on Janus' sides. "It…hey, it was a two-person rescue mission. Just don't ask me to do this again."

"I didn't ask you to do it in the first place," Patton said, but he was smiling. Of course he was. He couldn't imagine _not_ smiling right now—they'd come back for him. They'd _saved_ him. They'd done it. "In fact, I remember saying the opposite."

"Well, sorry, Pat, my days of listening to you are over." Virgil paused and squeezed Pat's arm. "I love you too, Pat. Good to have you back."

Patton smiled wider.

Then he screamed as they dipped suddenly and wove around two dragons. Fire singed Patton's hair and he ducked. Virgil's knuckles were white. He lunged out and thwacked a nearby tail with his crossbow, which did nothing but make his crossbow slip from his fingers and fall against Janus' side.

Virgil looked at the crossbow, took a deep breath, and dropped it. It felt to the thorns below and disappeared.

Patton gasped and leaned forward. He expected to see Virgil upset. He didn't expect to see Virgil smiling.

"I was out of bolts," Virgil said. "And—I'm alright without it. I don't think I need it anymore."

Patton would have hugged Virgil right then if they weren't both on a dragon, and if Janus hadn't swooped wildly to the left in an attempt to avoid a deep purple dragon with black horns. Instead, he just held on for dear life and hoped Janus knew what he was doing.

He glanced back at the Mountain. Tall and buzzing with dragons like a hive of bees. Their colors stood out against the sky. They really were beautiful. They could be a lot more than this if they let themselves—and if everyone else let them, too.

Then he saw something.

A huge black dragon, taking off from the top of the Mountain, wings wide.

Mara.

"Janus!" Patton yelled. "Mara's here!"

Janus didn't say anything—he couldn't, he was a dragon, but Patton was having trouble thinking clearly when they were being attacked from all sides. His muscles tensed under Patton's hand. They flew even faster, dipping low over the thorns, so close that Patton kicked one of the tallest branches and snapped it in two.

Most of the dragons were turning back now. One tried to attack from behind, and Janus' tail swung out and caught it in the ribs. Patton raised a hand and fire flickered from his fingers.

Then he remembered the burning Mountain, and Janus collapsed in that courtyard, and Mara's fear.

He let the fire diminish again.

The thorns were thinning. Up ahead Patton could see the fuzzy line of the Woods, green and safe and so close and way too far away.

Janus twisted around midair and blasted fire at a nearby dragon. Patton slipped sideways and Virgil grabbed him without looking. Patton dug his heels into the scales and held on even tighter. He knew Janus would catch him if he fell, or do his best, but they needed to get to the Woods and he wasn't really excited about being away from Janus during a fight.

"Where—" Patton tapped on Virgil's shoulder again. "Where are Logan and Remus?"

"They're on—" Janus executed a roll and Virgil shrieked. "—the other side of the Woods! Janus dropped me off by the chasm and—Jan, guy on your left!—and flew L and Re over the Woods. I think they're—watch it!—sitting on that road right now."

"You did?" Patton asked.

"Yeah, you said to take them back and we wanted to go rescue you." Virgil shrugged. "So we compromised. Didn't seem fair to drag them back here, and Jan and I—turns out we make a good team."

Janus made a snorting noise that could have meant "Yes, the best team" and could have meant "you're full of it, idiot." Patton decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and smiled at him, patting his scales. Janus huffed and kept flying.

They were approaching the Woods. Patton could make out the individual trees and a few remains of the bridge on each side of the chasm. Thank goodness they didn't have to cross it again—flying was way easier, except for the winds and the other dragons and the ever-present fear of _falling off into the thorns and dying._

Almost all the dragons had turned back by now. Except for Mara. She was gaining on them, a dozen feet above them, and when her wings raised they blocked out the sun.

"She's not stopping!" Patton yelled into Virgil's ear.

Virgil gave Mara a panicked look. "She'll stop. She has to."

Janus just kept flying.

The thorns beneath them unfurled in an endless carpet of twisted branches. Janus ducked even lower. One of the branches scraped along his side and he made a noise of pain. The branches came away bloody. They must have hit his injury.

"Come on," Virgil muttered over the wind. Patton wasn't sure who he was talking to. "Come on, just a little further, we're almost there—"

Thorns, thorns, Mara swooping behind them like a bat, black with silvery edges and staring a hole in Patton's chest—

The thorns stopped neatly as if chopped by a knife.

And they were over the chasm.

And they were over the Woods.

And Janus dipped back and forth, circling a few times. Patton noticed the little sphinx dive for safety, disappearing in a puff of feathers and leaving only an empty chasm and a bit of rope behind.

Mara had paused fifty feet away, flying back and forth, pacing up and down the edge of the thorns and watching them. She didn't seem to be tired at all. She was so _huge_ —Patton watched the muscles in her wings and the way the skin stretched over the bones, and he shivered.

Janus landed.

It was a rough landing. Patton slipped halfway off his back, jostled, and Virgil yelped and grabbed at Janus' scales. Janus pushed Patton the rest of the way off with his tail, and Virgil jumped to the ground too. Patton hit the stone. He sat there for a second, enjoying the feeling of sunny stone under his hands, and rose achingly to his feet.

Virgil was watching Mara, eyes narrowed, hands jammed in his pockets.

Janus huffed once more and then he was human, wings narrowing into nothing and hair falling over his face. He looked at Patton, and just like always, Patton couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"You—you saved me," Patton blurted out. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Something in Janus' face tightened. He stepped forward. "Pat—"

"Sorry." Patton immediately felt bad for interrupting, but he kept talking. "I'm…sorry. I don't regret what I did, and I really wanted to get Virgil out of there, but you risked your life to come back and it must have been tough to carry three people and I'm sorry—"

Janus stepped forward again.

And hugged Patton fiercely. One arm came up to circle Patton's shoulders, the other cupped the back of his head. Janus tucked his chin over Patton's shoulder and turned his face into Patton's neck.

Patton stood there frozen for a longer time than he wanted to admit. Janus was cool and strong and so, so close, and he could feel Janus' chin slotting over Patton's shoulder and Janus' hand rubbing Patton's arm and Janus was still cradling the back of Patton's head like he wanted to protect Patton from the world. Like he wanted to keep Patton safe and never let go.

Virgil was watching them with a smirk. He gave Patton a little 'move' gesture, which Patton took to mean "Hug him back."

Patton gladly hugged Janus back. He brought up his arms and pulled himself to Janus' chest and took a deep breath. Janus smelled like blood and Patton probably smelled like something burning. Janus was shaking slightly and Patton was three seconds away from crying. Janus was wounded and Patton was tired and they were only one chasm away from a still-circling dragon who would gladly rip them to shreds.

It was the best hug Patton had ever had.

And now he was crying.

Patton pressed his face into Janus' shoulder and let a few tears slip out. They'd ruin Janus' shirt, but he had to admit Janus' shirt was far past ruined already. And Janus didn't seem to mind at all. He ran his hand through Patton's hair and squeezed him tighter, and Patton was clutching at Janus' shirt because he didn't want Janus to leave and Janus _wasn't_ leaving.

"You're an idiot," Janus whispered. "You thought I wouldn't come back for you, you're an idiot."

"I didn't want you to get hurt." Patton raised his head. "But—thank you."

"Anytime." Janus pulled his hand up and wiped at Patton's face with his thumb. "We're okay now. It's over."

"We're okay," Patton repeated, giddiness bubbling up inside of him. "We did it?"

"We did it," Janus agreed, a little smile on his face.

"We did it!" Patton squealed and gave Janus one more squeeze. "Virgil, we did it!"

"Um." Virgil's voice was hesitant. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news. But. No, we didn't. Not yet."

Patton let go of Janus and looked over the chasm.

Mara was headed straight for them.

"What." Janus looked completely stunned. "She's not—we never go into the Woods, what is she thinking—"

"She has to be turning around." Virgil backed towards the Woods. "She has to be, let's go—"

Janus nodded and slipped his hand into Patton's. Patton squeezed it and followed him as they ran down the side of the chasm. The rocks were smooth and dry beneath them and Patton took a moment to revel in the sunlight, the fresh air, the wind at his back and the rustling of leaves and the smell of the Woods, thick and deep and magical.

"Where is it?" Virgil complained. He'd run out in front of them and was scanning the tree line. "That stupid path has to be somewhere!"

"There," Janus said, his voice clipped. His hand had come up to his side again, and fresh blood leaked between his fingers.

Patton sprinted toward the narrow path, Virgil and Janus right behind him. He felt the shadows splash onto his skin like water and he was running down the dappled path, dirt under his feet and trees all around and iron glowing in the shadows.

And _wow_. He'd missed this.

"We're in the Woods, thank the stars." Virgil stumbled to a stop. "And I can't believe I just said that."

Patton looked back down the path. The Mountain was still visible, dark and gray, but most of the dragons were gone. As Patton watched, a few more slipped into the caves and disappeared. They'd given up, gotten bored, and probably didn't want to risk their lives by following. Patton couldn't blame them.

Janus was struggling to catch his breath, a good portion of his shirt wet with dark blood. Patton stepped forward to help, but there was nothing they could do right now.

"So," Virgil said after another few seconds of silence and leaves, "what do we do?"

"Fly?" Patton suggested.

"I'd have to find a place to take off." Janus looked at the branches criss-crossing above them. A net or a web, hemming them in, and Patton was reminded of why he didn't actually like the Woods very much.

"There's that cliff," Virgil said.

Patton bit his lip. "That's days away."

"We could go back to the chasm and take off from there," Janus said, not sounding convinced.

"We'd be right out in the open!" Virgil said. "Even if Mara's gone, she could come back."

"Mara's gone?" Patton asked, squinting down the path. Sure enough, there was no black figure idly hovering in the distance. "Huh. That's…good, I guess."

Janus and Virgil were silent. They'd probably picked up on what Patton had—that even if Mara might die from following them, it still felt weird that she hadn't even _tried_ , that she'd left without fanfare. Seeing her in the sky, like a ripped edge showing off the night beneath, was terrifying. Not seeing her at all was somehow even more so.

"She must have left," Virgil said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. "She's not _that_ stupid. Right?"

Shadows pooled over Patton, thick and dark, and now he was _really_ remembering why he hated the Woods. It was that itchy feeling of being watched again, the crawling sensation of being listened to, the creeping fear of being trapped. Like something was hovering over them, waiting for the moment to strike. He shook himself and stepped away from the edges of the path. It'd be fine. They were only feet from the edge of the Woods and they'd be _fine_.

Then Patton looked up.

One of the shadows above them wasn't a tree.

"Guys?" Patton asked, his voice squeaking in a question he didn't intend to ask. "Is this—"

Janus looked up, paled, and swore.

"She's an idiot," Virgil said shakily. "An actual _idiot_."

Mara was hovering over the trees, her wings barely distinguishable from the branches, drifting in a low, lazy circle over their heads.

"She can't be serious," Patton said. "She—these are the _Woods_."

"I suppose she hopes to catch us by waiting us out," Janus said.

"What do we do," Virgil asked desperately. "What do we do, Jan, what do we do—"

"There's no immediate danger," Patton said. "She can't get us down here. So…maybe we should just walk through the Woods on our own? Go back the way we came?"

Neither Janus or Virgil looked excited about that. Patton had to admit it wasn't the best plan.

"Sure," Janus agreed, "and climb _up_ a cliff instead of _down_ it. I foresee no possible consequences of that."

"L and Re are waiting," Virgil added. "They don't have any food and I told them to stay put—we can't just leave them there for _days_."

Okay, fine. It was really a terrible plan.

But what else were they supposed to do? The moment they took off, they'd have Mara on their tail, and Janus was smaller and injured and carrying two people. She'd catch up in an instant.

"Maybe we wait _her_ out," Virgil suggested. "She can't hover all day."

Janus sighed and half-collapsed to the ground. "As a short-term plan, I'm all for it."

Virgil sat down as well. Patton rushed over to Janus. "How's your side?"

"Not great," Janus admitted, pulling away his hand. Blood had crusted in the lines of his palm. Patton's stomach turned when he saw the cut. "I don't see what I can do about it at the moment, though."

"Put pressure on it," Patton suggested.

"Here." Virgil wrestled off his hoodie, revealing his snug purple t-shirt and thin arms. He tossed it over. "Tear this into strips or whatever. I don't know medicine. But I think it could make an alright bandage."

Patton took Virgil's hoodie gingerly. "You sure? This is your favorite hoodie—"

"I'm not the one bleeding out, am I?" Virgil jerked a head at Janus. "He's our ride. Best not to have him collapsing of blood loss mid-flight."

Still, Patton saw the flicker of concern in Virgil's eyes, and from the way Janus thanked him almost-entirely sincerely, he knew Janus could tell, too.

Patton tore the hoodie into strips, wincing every time, even though the hoodie was practically strips already. He handed Janus bundles of cloth, and Janus obligingly pressed them to his wound, hissing as he did so.

"She's not leaving," Virgil noted, watching Mara. He raised his wrist, probably to chew on his sleeve, then seemed to realize he had no sleeve to chew on. He settled for shifting back and forth and drumming on his leg.

"Be patient," Patton said, wiping at Janus' wound. Logan and Remus had taken the knapsacks, so they had no water. Hopefully they'd be able to get to them soon.

"He has a point," Janus said. "If she's willing to wait us out, I doubt she'll leave right away."

"We can't leave Remus and Logan alone!" Virgil jumped to his feet and started to pace. "We can't just stay here _indefinitely!"_

"Hello!" Patton called up at Mara. "Can you leave, please? We want to leave and you're not letting us leave!"

Janus stared at Patton. "Please tell me you're being sarcastic."

Mara didn't respond. Probably because she couldn't hear him. And even if she did, what would she say? Maybe nothing. Maybe she'd just light Patton up with the kind of fire he couldn't control.

It was hard to keep track of her in the trees. She dipped and weaved among the branches, no more than another shadow cast by leaves. Sometimes her shadow dripped over Patton or slipped over Virgil or hovered over Janus, thick and smug, digging its claws into them. They couldn't move. She was keeping them in place.

"We should try and walk," Janus suggested. "Perhaps she'll lose us in the trees."

A weak suggestion, but all they had. Patton helped Janus to his feet and they began to walk down the path. Patton resisted the urge to bolt down the path—it wouldn't do them any good and he was too tired to keep it up—and the urge to bolt _off_ the path—nope, not today, sorry mysterious feeling.

Mara followed, even darting ahead of them sometimes as if to tease them. They couldn't hide from her. She knew where they were going, and if it weren't for the Woods between them, she'd dive and catch them instantly.

The Woods were their only protection.

That was a funny thing to think. Then again, it felt right in Patton's head. The Woods would protect them. He knew that.

Why'd he know that? They certainly hadn't done anything to help them _before_.

Patton shook himself and kept walking. It didn't matter one way or another. They'd be out of here soon and he'd be back home and never have to think about the Iron Woods again. No more adventures, no more Fae, no more dragons.

Well, except for one specific dragon.

Patton glanced at Janus to make sure he was doing okay. He was limping a bit but looked alright. That was good. Patton didn't think he could stand it if Janus got hurt again. Janus got hurt too much and that really wasn't fair at all.

Mara flew above them like their shadow, following in their footsteps, and Patton felt her prickly eyes on his back.

"Why is she following?" Virgil threw up his hands. "What did we do to her?"

Janus stared at him. "You shot her with a crossbow."

"I do that to a lot of people! Including you! She's not special!"

"Well, I disobeyed her authority," Janus pointed out. "And Pat…I don't know if Patton did anything, although he did briefly set the Mountain on fire—"

"I, um, deconstructed her psychologically," Patton said, rubbing at the back of his neck, "and encouraged her to reexamine her biases towards the Fae?"

Janus sighed. "Yeah, that'd do it."

"Damn," Virgil added, sounding impressed.

Mara circled them. She was staying away from the trees themselves, which made sense. Patton caught a flash of fire as she huffed in annoyance.

"Come on, hurry up," Virgil said. "I want to get as far away from Ms. Evil here as possible. Maybe she'll turn around if she's too far away from backup."

"She doesn't need backup," Janus said, sounding oddly resigned. "If she wants us, she'll get us eventually."

"That's no way to think about it," Patton said, growing warm with determination. "We're safe in here and we'll figure out a new plan if we need one—"

Janus didn't respond. Neither did Virgil. They were both staring up at Mara.

Patton looked up.

Oh. He wasn't warm because of determination.

He was warm because the tops of the trees were on fire.

Flames leaped from branch to branch, crumbling the leaves like tinder, skidding down the bark and falling with broken twigs to the ground. Yellow-orange light flickered over everything. Smoke was already rising, obscuring the sun, casting the whole scene in unnatural darkness. Iron was melting, dripping down from its perches in streams of molten heat.

"She's burning it," Patton whispered, more horrified than he'd ever been. "She's burning the Woods."

"She's setting the damn _Iron Woods_ on fire!" Janus yelled, sounding equally horrified. "She's trying to smoke us out! Does she have a _death_ wish—every creature in the Woods will be after her—"

"If they survive," Virgil said quietly. He was standing stock-still in the middle of the path, smoke drifting in ribbons around his face, eyes wide.

"We've got this," Patton said for Virgil's benefit, and also because it was the only thing stopping him from crying and curling into a ball. "We'll run! Now! And I'll put out the fire!"

" _Great_ idea, fight fire with fire, that's a highly recommended tactic." Despite Janus' biting words, he looked about to bolt as well. "Running out of here is what she _wants_."

"At least we can _fight_ her!"

"Personally," Virgil said raspily, "I think the scary dragon and the flames are equally terrifying and I'm probably going to shut down in a few seconds because we're _going_ to _die_ oh my _stars we are going to die—"_

The fire was spiraling closer to them. Mara flew above them, a dark shape in the smoke, blocking out the sun and sending smoke into Patton's lungs. He didn't blame Virgil for panicking. This was terribly familiar. Patton knew how it went. The fire burned through the easiest tinder then jumped to the larger pieces of wood, and then the trees collapsed, and the smoke filled the air until breathing meant coughing on gray and exhaling ashes.

He knew how this went.

Except now there was magic involved. A magic forest was burning. And Patton had a feeling that would be good for no one.

Mara circled and suddenly dived, a streak of black lightning in the sky, landing in a plume of smoke. Fire flickered by her feet. She'd burned a little space for herself to land.

Haze crossed her and suddenly she was human-shaped, hair down and clumped around her head, fire skating from her legs like she was a Fae like Patton, who could summon the fire to her will.

Except she wasn't. She didn't have control. She couldn't _stop_ this— _no_ one could—it was going to burn out of control and destroy the Woods and everything inside. And Patton felt that, deeply and terribly, that was _wrong_.

"What are you doing?" Virgil screamed at her as a branch fell, streaming with fire, to the ground. "You're going to kill us all."

"Correction." Mara swept a hand around at the smoke. She didn't look bothered. It was like she breathed smoke every day and lit fires every evening. Maybe she did. "I'm going to kill _you_."

"This'll kill you too!" Patton pleaded. His eyes were already tearing up, maybe from the smoke, maybe from the wrenching pain he felt as a tree collapsed nearby. The fire was spreading, he could feel it, like it was burning him up along with the Woods. "It'll kill everyone, you have to stop—"

"I'm not going to listen to a Faerie." Mara waved her hands. "Now, are you going to sit there and be good little prey, or am I going to have to come over there?"

Janus answered that question by tossing a burning log at Mara's head. She dodged neatly.

"Disappointing," she noted like he'd lost a poker game. "You're such a waste of space, honestly, I don't know why I haven't killed you yet."

Virgil called her several names that insulted her parentage, her purity, and every other aspect of her life. Janus just stood there, watching the flames burn around them.

"At least you're not running," Mara added. "You have the sense to admit that's futile."

Patton jumped away as an ember fell at his feet. If they ran to the chasm, maybe they'd be able to cross it and be safe? It'd leave them open to dragon attacks, but anything was better than burning trees and thickening smoke and Mara's knife-edge smile.

They could run. They _needed_ to run. They had no options left.

Still, he ached at the thought of leaving the Woods behind to burn.

Virgil must have had the same thought, because a hand grabbed Patton's arm and Janus' shoulder, and now they were running in a scrambled dash down the path. The trees burned above them, a sick kind of arch, a tunnel leading who-knew-where and away from someone was destroying a forest filled with magic. Patton thought of the unicorn he'd saved, the snake they'd fought, the gryphons they'd been chased by, even his ancestor, the Faerie. She'd sacrificed so much to create this place. It wasn't right that it was going to be destroyed like this, an _afterthought_ , a way for a proud dragon to prove her strength.

But what could Patton do? Janus was right. Fire couldn't beat fire.

"Oh, you _are_ going to run," Mara said. "Come on, I don't have _time_ for this."

And footsteps behind them, surprisingly nimble, skidding around burning patches of the path.

The iron around them was pooling on the ground, sickening puddles of heat, making Patton's head swim.

Mara was behind them, gaining.

Janus was running like his life depended on it. Blood dripped from his side. He might have been crying, but it was hard to tell in the smoke.

Virgil was breathing so heavily Patton could see his chest go up and down. He was wild-eyed and his fingers dug into Patton's arm and Patton caught him muttering "no, no, no" over and over again. Patton clenched his fist and realized he was still holding some of the strips of Virgil's hoodie. The cloth fluttered in the breeze as he ran.

Mara jumped and her bones shifted in midair, huge wings bursting out, and she was diving at them, and Patton ducked and rolled, and Virgil screamed and dodged, and Janus whirled but stumbled and he hit the ground hard. Mara landed inches from him, lowering her face to look him in the eye.

Patton's resolve hardened.

He grabbed an ember from the path, wrapped it in the cloth, and chucked it at Mara's back.

Fae luck. The kind of luck that helped him make it through the Woods alive. The kind of luck that gave him amazing best friends and a great brother. The kind of luck that made him fall and have someone to catch him.

And how much did he really need anyway? He was aiming for the biggest dragon he knew, silhouetted against the smoke and finally still as she prepared to hurt Patton's best friend. It was like hitting the broad side of a barn.

He didn't need luck.

The embers hit square in the middle of Mara's back.

Patton didn't pause to watch them burn her. He pulled Virgil along. Janus, for his part, didn't hesitate. He kicked Mara in the face, rolled out of her grasp, and came up running. Virgil chucked another burning stick at Mara as she struggled to follow, screeching in pain.

Patton smiled. At least he had friends to back him up.

They ran deeper into the Woods.

Around them, the fire spread.

Patton was really starting to hate fire.

"Where do we go?" Virgil yelled over the sound of trees cracking. "What do we do?"

"I can't—" Janus paused to cough, pulling his shirt up over his mouth. Patton did the same. "I can't fly through _fire_."

"Well, we have to do something!" Virgil's voice was bordering on hysterical. He waved his hands wildly as if he could put out the fire through sheer force of will. "I'm not _dying_ here, Jan! I'm _not!"_

"Take a breath," Janus said.

"I can't," Virgil yelled, "because there's _smoke everywhere!"_

Patton was watching Mara behind them. She was shifting back into her human form, leaping over fallen trees with the grace of an gazelle, gaining on them fast.

"She's following us," Patton reported.

"No kidding," Janus said. "I think at this point, she'd follow us off a cliff."

"No cliffs!" Virgil almost screamed. "I'm terrified enough, thank you!"

Patton glanced back at Mara. She certainly seemed determined to follow them even if it meant her own death.

Then again, she could fly out of here. They couldn't.

Except she _couldn't_. Not if Janus couldn't. And she didn't want to. She only had eyes for them. Patton wondered if she even noticed the fires around her.

This whole place was burning down. And Patton was stumbling forward, trying to stay upright, trying to breathe, trying to stay on the path—

Patton froze.

"Pat?" Virgil turned to him in panic. "You gotta run—everything's on fire—I can't—"

"Guys," Patton said, "do you trust me?"

"Absolutely," Janus said without hesitation. Virgil just nodded.

"Great." Patton grabbed their hands. "Then follow me."

He ran.

Straight off the path and into the fire.

And Janus and Virgil followed, albeit with a lot of screaming and swearing.

Patton glanced back at Mara. She paused but stepped over the iron barrier and slipped into the trees.

Running through the Woods was different than being on a path. Trees loomed in the smoke and had a tendency to appear right where Patton was headed so he had to dodge last-minute. Embers and ash and burning branches fell like a hailstorm and smoke clogged every inch of the air. His feet hurt with every step. His lungs burned hotter than the fire around them. But nothing came out to grab them. Nothing attacked them. Patton's hunch had been right—the Woods were too busy fending off the attack to do anything about their intrusion.

Well, hopefully, only _most_ of it was.

"Hi!" Patton yelled as they traveled through the Woods. "I have a feeling you're listening. So, um—little help?"

"What—" Virgil didn't even finish his sentence because of the smoke, but Patton got the gist of it. Janus, on his other side, was staring at him like he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. But this was their best shot.

" _Please!"_ Patton yelled as Mara followed, slipping between burning trunks, eyes narrowed. "You don't want her in here, I know it, and you don't want this place to burn! Neither do I—so _help_ us!"

A clearing opened up in front of them, miraculously clear of smoke. They stumbled into it, eyes watering. Virgil bent over to cough and Janus staggered over to a tree, leaned on it, and struggled to catch his breath.

Mara stopped feet from them, looking triumphant. She didn't even seem winded. Patton stepped backward, but not out of fear—he just wanted to leave some room.

"Please, don't do this," Patton begged. "You're going to get hurt."

"No, I'm not." Surrounded by fire, Mara looked more inhuman than any Fae Patton had ever met. "I'm going to _win_. And I'm going to make you regret ever stepping near my Mountain."

"Listen to me." Patton didn't know why he was giving her so many chances. "Don't come over here. _Leave_. Leave us be and it'll be okay, I promise, you just have to _leave_."

Mara smiled thinly. "I'm not one to waste opportunities."

She took a step forward.

Patton spotted a small branch near her ankle. It shifted just a little. A small wiggle.

"Sorry," Patton said.

"Sorry for what?" Mara asked.

"You made a mistake." Patton turned to Janus. "Jan? Wanna tell her what it is?"

Janus drew up his chin and looked her in the eyes. "You stepped off the path."

The branch looped around Mara's ankle and yanked her in the air.

She spun around a few times before settling into place. Her hair scraped the forest floor. She was screaming something Patton couldn't hear—because behind him was the sound of crashing and trembling and _growing_. He gave Mara one more apologetic look. Fire was already trickling down the branch towards her.

Then he turned away.

Some people just didn't want to be helped.

The rustling and creaking settled. The trees at the edge of the clearing had twisted into a tunnel, fire licking at the edges and blackening the bark but stopped by a few lines of silver that had eight legs and skittered up and down.

Patton grinned.

In the end, they had a bit of common ground—these Woods—and for this, that was enough.

"Thanks," he said.

"It won't let me in!" Virgil complained from where he was attempting to enter. The branches whipped out and clocked him in the shoulders. He stumbled back, rubbing his shoulder and glaring at it.

Patton ran over and waved at the branches. They immediately settled back into place. He took a step into the tunnel. It was almost completely dark except for the cracks, which showed fire glowing outside. They cast shattered shadows on the forest floor and little pieces of light at the edges.

"Ow!"

Patton turned to see Janus slapped by one of the branches. Patton glared at it and it settled back into place, but another poked at Janus' wound curiously and made Janus wince in pain.

"Leave them alone," Patton said, folding his arms. The branches waved noncommittally, and Patton took that to mean 'Nah.'

Patton sighed and grabbed Virgil and Janus' hands. "Hold onto me. If you stick close, they won't get you."

"You know," Virgil said in a brittle voice, "entering weird Fae tunnels is on my top ten list of ways I would rather not die."

"It won't hurt us!" Patton paused. "At least, it won't hurt me. Hopefully. Maybe?"

"It's fine, fire is number one on the list." Virgil glanced back at the clearing. It was all on fire now, grass losing its color and sparks drifting through the air. "Let's go."

Patton pulled Janus and Virgil into the tunnel. Immediately, the end closed up with a sickening squelch, giving Patton the sensation of being eaten. He shook off that image and pulled them along. The fire danced outside.

The ground stretched under their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're now entering the section I wrote last night, so if this makes no sense it's because I wrote 20k in a day and had no brain left


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: flashbacks, trauma, implied child abuse, guilt, grief, a minor mindfuck, some symptoms of disassociation, spiders, body horror, falling, minor manipulation

"Where is this taking us?" Virgil asked as the branches skittered around them like spiders.

"I don't know," Patton admitted. "Logan and Remus? Maybe? Or a way we can stop the fire. Or a trap. 30-30-30 odds, I think."

"Well, we're dead anyway," Janus said almost cheerily.

His hand slipped from Patton's and the world wrenched around them. Patton grabbed it before it could get too far away. When everything settled, the fire was gone, replaced by an eerie green glow. Water dripped from the ceiling and formed puddles on the floor, squirming with creatures Patton didn't recognize.

"Don't let go of me," Patton said weakly. "Okay?"

"Very okay," Virgil said, eyeing a puddle with barely hidden terror.

"I concur," Janus said, pressing close to Patton's side and cringing away from the drops of water.

The water dried up with a sizzle.

Patton led them onward.

The ground rolled out in front of them like their personal red carpet.

The green light flashed and leaked and shuddered and turned dark brown, and crystals popped up in the corner, thick and colorful as rock candy. Patton didn't touch them, though he wanted to. Something was shifting in the center of each one.

Fire burst on top of each. They exploded like fireworks, pop-pop-pop, making the air smell like sulfur and raspberry.

He kept walking.

Janus and Virgil clung to Patton's hands.

Red light now. Deep blood-red. Grapevines wound around the walls and dripped from the ceiling. The scent was intoxicating and sent Patton reeling, the floor slipping out from under him, the whole world tilting sideways. Janus clambered away from the edge and Virgil slipped down and fell into Patton.

"Watch your step," Patton warned, turning sideways and inching along the steadily-increasing incline.

"You don't say," Janus said, shrieking when the grapes dried up and caught fire, globs of molten lava clinging to the vines.

Patton led them forward.

Blue light, deeper than his own fire. Patton wondered if there was a pattern here. He wondered if they were still in the Woods, or in a deeper place no one had touched for centuries, or somewhere else entirely. He wondered where they were going. Virgil's hand was slippery in his own, and Janus' was icy cold.

Blue light, and ice spreading across the branches and crystallizing in droplets on the smallest twigs. Patton took a shuddering breath as goosebumps appeared up and down his arms. This wasn't real. Nothing was this cold in summer.

Magic, though.

Patton shivered, rubbed at Janus' hand to keep it warm, and kept walking.

The path tilted back and forth and back and swung up to the side. Patton followed it, feeling like his feet were magnetized to the path. Virgil and Janus stumbled, a few branches lashing at their feet.

The ice melted with a horrifying hiss.

It was replaced with deep shadows that trembled in fear and grabbed at Patton with clawed hands when he least expected it. Then deep purple icicles that were sharp as knives, clusters in the corners, dripping black blood. Then yellow will o' the wisps, hundreds of them, humming in harmony and making Patton's thoughts scramble and tumble and run into each other.

The shadows turned to scorch marks on the roles. The icicles melted down into dull little pinpricks. The will o' the wisps were strangled by smoke that poured from the walls, thick and dark and suffocating, winking out every light.

The path twisted up to the ceiling. Patton kept walking, dangling above who-knew-what, silver spiders crumbling to ash around him. Virgil followed and Janus followed and he hoped he was leading them somewhere safe.

"I can't—" Virgil coughed on the vapor of a fleet of bats that flew right through them and left little orange sparks around them. "Pat, I can't keep this up."

Patton turned to look at them. Virgil's face was white and Janus was trembling.

"Are you okay?" he burst out, feeling terrible for not realizing sooner.

"Yeah, but…" Virgil looked around and shuddered. "I _hate_ this place."

"We're walking upside down," Janus pointed out. "It's not exactly easy."

Patton didn't know what to do. Because it _was_ easy for him. This was his world, and he belonged here, and his friends didn't, but he needed to get them through it because this was their only way out.

"Don't let go of me," Patton said because what else could he say? "Please don't let go."

"We won't," Janus promised. His voice was thin and dry and Patton promised himself he'd get them out of this.

He gripped their hands even tighter. He hoped he was strong enough to carry them both, and he hoped they were strong enough to stay, and he hoped there was a light somewhere at the end of this tunnel that wasn't fake silver light or twisting flames.

They walked upside-down, Patton letting his feet hit the ground like gravity had just reversed. It felt simple. But Janus kept almost jumping to get himself in place, and Virgil's feet were hovering several inches below the ceiling.

Golden flames that dashed through the tunnel, chaining their arms and legs. Purple smoke that stole into their lungs and shattered their voices. Dark hands that slapped over their mouths and pulled at their clothes.

Patton could beat them. Patton just glared and they kept away. But for every threat he sent away from himself, two more popped up near Janus and Virgil.

A hand tightened around Virgil's neck and Virgil screamed.

"Come on," Patton pleaded with the walls. "They're my friends. Leave them alone!"

Nobody answered. He thought he heard someone laughing, though. And he could imagine the answer well enough.

_They're not useful, little Fae. Not as more than playthings._

"I can't do anything without them," Patton yelled. "I'm not gonna do whatever you want if they're not there! We're a package deal. You get me _and_ them. No negotiations."

This time, he did hear laughter.

_That's a harmful mindset, little Fae. You're so much more than they let you be. Let me show you._

Branches wound around their ankles and turned to stone, gray and ash-colored and heavier than stone should be. A few saplings sent little tendrils up their skin. Patton shook them off. He kicked the stone and it crumbled to charcoal, clumping in between the branches.

And then came the spiders.

Not the silver ones from earlier, quick and flashy and weaving this whole tunnel as the fire turned them to glittering ash. These were black spiders the size of gumdrops. Patton recognized them instantly. He screamed and flailed his legs, trying to kick at the carpet of spiders that now covered the ceiling. They spun little webs and dropped down slowly from their lines, twirling in midair like little dancers, legs twitching.

"No, no, _no_." Patton had a feeling the Faerie was laughing at him—at his fear and at his friends and at his futile hope that she would be helpful for _once_. "No, _stop!"_

The spiders trickled over his shoes, a gleaming black current, and Patton was breathing way too fast and kicking wildly and holding so tight to Janus and Virgil that he was probably cutting off their blood flow. Spiders. No spiders, bad spiders, he didn't want them near him—

But they left him alone. In fact, after he started kicking, they gave him a wide berth. Patton almost sighed in relief, but he didn't trust it. They were _spiders_. They had to be up to something.

They kept trickling past him.

Patton turned around.

They were spilling down over Janus and Virgil, stone crusted over their mouths and spiders ringing their arms and hands limp in Patton's.

Patton screamed.

Janus was fighting, kicking at the spiders and grabbing at the stone hand covering his mouth. It came loose with a rusty screech but slapped into place, pinning his hand down with it.

Virgil was shaking. His eyes were screwed shut and stone was spreading down his neck and to his chest. Like an infection, like ice freezing on a lake, like that horrible tree in that horrible throne room and Patton _wasn't_ going to let Virgil go a second time—

 _Spiders_. So many spiders. Spiders shaking from their hair, nestled in Virgil's bangs and Janus' locks. Spiders bunched in the folds of their clothes. Spiders tapping at their eyelids and slipping inside their mouths and bubbling up under their skin. Everywhere they touched they left little patches of stone, the same stone as the vines holding them in place. Silvery and sleek and terrifyingly perfect.

"Let them go!" Patton screamed, tugging at the vines and feeling a few spiders poke at his skin. "Leave them out of this, it's me you want, leave them _alone!"_

_Why would I want you alone, little Fae? You said it yourself: you're nothing without your friends._

Spiders pooled around them, an inky lake, and below them was only darkness.

" _Stop_ ," Patton sobbed. Janus was tearing at the stone around him. Virgil's head lolled and he went limp. " _Please_ , I'm sorry, I don't know what I did but I'm _sorry,_ just stop _hurting_ them—"

_You led them here. You told them to follow you. I'm not hurting them. You are. They trusted you, and now they're going to die._

"What point are you trying to prove?" Patton punched the wall, branches shaking beneath his fist. "That I'm a terrible person? I'm not perfect, but I'm not the one _covering my friends with spiders!"_

Silence.

The spiders disappeared.

The branches split apart next to them, like an egg newly hatching. Beyond them was only darkness, shifting and coiled and stretched thin as roots. A web, Patton thought idly, before he realized a wind was rustling his feet and shoving him towards the hole.

Nope. None of that. Not today, no sir, _nope!_

Patton backed away from the hole.

Virgil and Janus couldn't. They were dripping with silver spiderwebs, each string pearly and perfect and leading somewhere deep into the whole. The webs twitched and shifted like the roots of a tree.

"Let us out!" Patton yelled to no one.

Gladly.

The webs tugged all at once in a wave of silver.

Virgil's hand slipped from Patton's. He fell through the hole, silver streaming behind him, eyes closed.

"Virgil!" Patton lunged after him. His fingers met air. Virgil was gone into the darkness.

"Pat—" Janus' fingers spasmed in his. "I can't—"

"No, no, c'mon." Patton turned to Janus and grabbed his other hand. "Don't let go, c'mon, _stay_ , I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, just hold on and _stay_ with me—"

"It's alright," Janus said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. He looked completely ethereal, surrounded by a halo of spider silk, silver running down his eyes and pooling in his mouth. "Stop apologizing, you never did anything wrong."

His hands were cold in Patton's.

And they started to slip away, piece by piece.

Patton grabbed them and pressed them to his chest. _No_. No, he was _not_ letting Janus go. He was going to hold him right here until the end of time.

Spiders all around them, spider silk spooling from the ceiling, a floor far below that Patton couldn't reach and a destination they'd long since abandoned.

They were lost, and Patton knew the path, but he wasn't taking it. Not if it meant losing his friends.

"Stay," Patton pleaded, bringing Janus' hand to the webs on Janus' face, wiping away the silk that he could. It came off metallic and shimmery like the scales of a fish. "Stay, stay, please, come on—"

His hands were covered in silver now. Silver, silver, spiderwebs and spiders and slipping and sliding and the world turning on its head—

One second, Patton was holding Janus' hand.

The next, he was empty.

And Janus was plummeting into the darkness, hand outstretched, a million little branches reaching up to grab him.

" _Janus!"_

Patton was screaming at darkness.

She'd left the hole open. A little hatch, a small door, like a taunt. To see if Patton would be brave enough, stupid enough, desperate enough to take the bait.

Patton didn't hesitate a moment.

He threw himself into the darkness, hands outstretched, hoping against hope that he'd find someone there to catch him.

_Open your eyes, little One. There is much to do and you musn't dawdle about it._

Despite the commanding tone of voice, Patton took his sweet time opening in his eyes. He was really tired and his head ached and his throat burned like he hadn't drank for a while. When was the last time he drank water? Probably before he'd gotten kidnapped—

Okay. Yeah. That was enough to wake him up. He mentally rewound through the last few hours. Escaping the Mountain, then Mara following them, the tunnel and the spiders—

Patton's eyes flew open.

He was suspended in midair by several huge roots, tangled in his arms and legs and attached to who-knew-what. 'Midair' might not be accurate, though, because Patton wasn't sure if there _was_ any air down here. Wherever here was. Everything was dark and warm and musty like newly watered garden soil, and all he could see was a bit of dirt on the walls.

And the roots, of course.

They came in all shapes and sizes—huge thick dark roots that coiled around the edges of the room and held it in place, slim roots that filled the cracks and looped together in the corners, tiny green roots that dangled from the top and vines that wound their way down the bigger ones and rough brown roots that looked painful to be near. They all came together in a cacophony of plants, twisting and tugging and taming each other, snarled and knotted so much that in places Patton couldn't tell where one root ended and another began.

The whole place smelled like dirt and worn-out shoes. Something thumped deep within it, a steady pulse, a heartbeat. Patton could almost feel his own heart slowing to match the rhythm.

He twisted around and tried to move. No luck. He just swung in his little trap of vines, feeling like he had when he'd first stepped off the path and gotten whisked in the air. Powerless and airborne and too far from the ground.

He didn't see anyone else—which was funny, since he was pretty sure he'd been woken up by a voice. What he did see was a ball of silvery iron in the center of the room. The roots twisted around it like a parasite, hugging the metal and trying to scrape away slices. It was that, Patton realized, that was making the heartbeat. The huge mass of iron protected by the roots, or maybe constrained by them, or maybe threatened by them. Or maybe controlling them.

Silver magic danced around its surface, and for a second it looked like spiders, crawling down the roots and clustering against the iron.

Patton blinked again. Nothing. Just silver and roots and the smell of fresh dirt.

 _I wouldn't say just_ , said a voice that wasn't really a voice. Patton felt it more than heard it. It thrummed somewhere in his rib cage and echoed through his head. _I've worked quite hard on it, thank you._

"Wh—" Patton looked around wildly. He didn't see anyone. "Who are you? Where am I? Where are my friends?"

 _Slow down,_ the voice instructed. _Humans. Always rushing through things._

"Well, I'm not exactly human," Patton pointed out.

_Yes, I know. You are of her kind._

"She?" Patton repeated. "You mean the Faerie? My great-great-times-something grandma?"

The ball of iron thrummed once.

A figure appeared, dressed in her usual silvery clothes, a bored smile on her face. Her eyes were pure silver with black tinging the edges, dripping down her cheeks and splattering on her feet. She stood next to the iron on nothing at all, acting as if there was a floor Patton just couldn't see.

"You," Patton spat. "You—how _dare_ you—"

 _Yes and no,_ said the voice. The Faerie's mouth moved with it, but it was disjointed, like a bad dummy. _She is the one you seek, but she is not the one who speaks._

"Who are you, then?" Patton summoned fire to his palm—it was ridiculously easy, easier than breathing, like the fire longed to be right here, right now.

 _I am not one thing. I am more of a place, although that does not encompass it either._ The voice, Patton decided, sounded like an eroding mountain—moving so slowly and shifting so quietly that you didn't notice it had changed until it was suddenly an entirely different shape than before. _You are in my heart. The Mountain has a heart, and so do I, although mine is a bit more literal._

Patton stared at the lump of iron, cradled in a thousand roots, and the silver-black tears of the Faerie who wasn't talking to him at all.

"You're the Woods," he realized. "You're all the magic in the Woods."

_Yes, in a way. Count yourself lucky, young One, for it takes great power to concentrate us to speak as one._

"Whose power?" Patton asked.

_Hers and yours. You called, she sent, we answered._

"I—" Patton chuckled sheepishly. "Um, this is awkward, and it really is nice to meet you, but…I'm a little busy right now? I have to save my friends, so—

_Friends. I have yours, yes. I assumed it would be a good way to get your attention._

A few roots peeled away. Janus and Virgil were tied to the wall, branches wrapped around their bodies, eyes closed. Patton leaned toward them but there were several feet of empty, sour air in the way.

"Let them go!" Patton yelled.

_I must talk with you._

"Cool, we can talk later, I need them back!"

_Young One, I am dying._

That made Patton pause. He gave the Faerie a curious look, then realized he didn't know where he was supposed to be looking. The roots? The iron? He settled for a sweep of the room and asked "What?"

_Fire. Fire of the dragons has tainted this place. The Woods will survive—we survive much—but much may be lost yet, and our power is weakened by the poison in our veins._

"You mean the iron?"

_Poison. Tartar. Evil. Sneaks into our trees, destroys our fire, silences our voice. It bogs us down as ballast, too powerful to destroy, too stifling to fight against._

The voice didn't really have emotion. But Patton thought he pinpointed anger. Anger…and sadness.

"I'm sorry," Patton found himself saying. "That must be really tough on you guys. But, um, about my friends—"

_You wish for help. But such a gift cannot be given without a price. Even for you, Young One._

"A price." Patton steeled himself. "What's the price?"

 _Free me. Free us._ The voice slipped around him, cold and tempting. _Let us loose. Unchain us from these trees and this metal, and we can fly like I was meant to._

The voice was doubling now, shifting and wavering, the voice of a million saplings growing at once.

Free them? Free all the magic? Just like that.

 _It is your birthright,_ said the voice, and now it was only one and it was coming directly from the Faerie, who grinned at Patton with sparkling silver eyes. _Release me from this prison. The dragons bound us, the humans caged us, but we are better without them. We can rise above and take our place in the world._

Patton looked at Janus and Virgil, asleep in the wall.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "What if…that makes things worse? I'm all for magic, but…just unleashing it like that, wouldn't it—it could hurt people."

 _Let it._ The voice took on a darker edge, the sound of axes hitting wood. _Some deserve to be hurt. We have hurt for centuries and yet none heard our pain, so why should we bend to the cries of others?_

"Because it's important to take the high road!" Patton argued. "If everyone just goes around hurting each other and taking revenge, nobody'll be left!"

_We are magic. We are strong. We need no one else._

"Well, I do." Patton squared his shoulders. "I need my friends to do anything. So…no. I don't accept this. I'm not letting magic back into the world willy-nilly."

 _We are dying!_ screamed the voices at once. _We burn and suffocate and crumble at this very moment and you turn your back? You are one of us!_

"Kind of sort of maybe," Patton said, "since I'm also a human. And I'm also friends with dragons. So yeah, I don't think there's an 'us' that I'm part of at all. Except for my family and my friends." He paused. "And I'm really sorry about the fire. I can help with that, I think, maybe? You seem to think I can. So…why don't I help you put out the fire, and then I take my friends and I leave?"

_Just like that, Young One? You see potential for change and look away? You see potential for power and turn from it?_

Patton bit his lip. "Change is good. But not when it comes at the expense of others. I don't want you hurting anyone, and since you just hurt my friends, I'm not sure if I believe that you wouldn't."

_Coward._

"Nope!" Patton grinned. "I'm just being cautious. Jan would say the same thing! You gotta be careful with who you trust in these Woods, you should know that."

 _It is not a question of trust._ The Woods were getting frustrated now. The thrumming was getting faster. It'd clearly had an idea of how this conversation was going to go, and this wasn't it. Patton wasn't sure if angering an embodiment of magic was a good idea. But it had his friends. So there really wasn't another option. _It is a question of duty and revenge._

"Yeah, um, I'm not much of a fan of either of those." Patton shrugged. "Got any plans that involve kindness, empathy, and equity?"

_We burn while you stand here talking, Young One. Deaths on your conscience and blood on your hands. Trees you could save and magics you could cherish are already being lost._

"That's a guilt-trip," Patton said, fighting down the instinctive apologies that rose up. "I should know, my brain does them to me all the time. _You're_ the one not giving me my friends back and _you're_ the one grabbing at power. I know what I want to do and what I won't _ever_ do. You gotta meet me in the middle here."

 _It will take time to recover,_ said the voice slowly. It was quieter. Patton heard an echo he recognized, and maybe it was the Faerie or maybe it was Mara—or maybe Remy, or the sphinx, or Emile, or Janus. The human side of these Woods. The human aspect of magic. _Seeds must be planted, trees must grow. There is not enough space, and with such dead spots we will lose even more than we already have._

Patton thought of Mara's words. _Magic wants to grow,_ she'd said. _Magic wants to live_.

"There we go." Patton smiled and thought of the thorns around the Mountain. "That, maybe we can do something about."

 _We fear the secrets,_ said the Woods, as if they'd heard his thoughts. Maybe they had. That…was creepy. _Magic has no secrets, no lies or tricks. Magic is what it is and is all-revealing, all-knowing, all-encompassing. Such dirty human secrets keep us at bay._

"Oh," Patton said, nodding. "Yeah, I get that. Lying can feel pretty scary. But it's not actually necessarily that bad! Jan taught me that. In the right situation, you can use it to your advantage."

_We cannot pass it._

"Try building a bridge," Patton suggested. "The old one broke but I think you could make a better one."

_Your power is necessary for this._

"My power?" Patton blinked. "I don't have very much."

 _You have much more than you know._ The Faerie winked at him. _It is your birthright as the creator's child. We shall harvest your power and grow strong upon it._

"Harvest?" Patton winced. "That is not a good-sounding word. I don't like that word."

_You will propel us to victory._

"Yeah, no, also can you please be more specific?" Patton asked. "Like, I want step-by-step. What am I actually doing? Can I save my friends in the process please?"

For a long time, there was silence.

 _Put out the fire,_ said one voice.

 _Help us grow,_ said another.

 _And your friends and you shall be taken to the edge,_ said a third.

"The edge," Patton repeated. "Of the Woods?"

_You shall be safe._

"Vague, but okay." Patton looked around. "I just…fix everything."

_You know how to do it._

And weirdly enough, Patton _did_. He could feel the power in the roots surrounding him and the intoxicating thump of the heartbeat. He could feel the sickly iron around him and the silvery tang of the Faerie's magic and the fire far above him, still razing a path through the Woods, smoke hovering in rings above the treetops.

He could save the Woods.

But what would he destroy?

He looked at Janus and Virgil, still asleep, vines holding them in place. They were human and dragon, races the Woods wanted revenge upon.

Patton wanted a world with magic. But he didn't want a world without his friends.

The words bubbled to his lips before he could even think. "Let them help me."

 _Your friends are inconsequential,_ said the Woods. _They shall be your reward. We keep them in slumber so as not to interfere._

"We're shaking things up, and I want limits," Patton told the roots firmly. "If we're changing our corner the world, I think everyone in it should have a say. Human, Faerie, dragon. We'll do the spell-thing together and that'll keep things under control. I love magic, don't get me wrong—it's beautiful and terrifying and I'm finally getting the hang of it. But if your win comes at the cost of my friends losing, I don't want to play that game, period."

The Woods trembled for a moment, as if vibrating in anger, and were still.

 _You speak wisely for someone so young,_ the Woods finally said.

Patton giggled. "Not really! I'm just a human who's _branching_ out a bit, so I think you're _barking_ up the wrong _tree!"_

There was a collective sigh as if every creature in the Woods had done a simultaneous facepalm. Patton beamed.

 _Enough puns,_ said the voice. _I suppose you may have your friends. But such magic is deeper than those kinds often go, and it takes things one does not expect. Be careful, Young One, lest you and your companions are drowned in the flood._

Patton shivered. That didn't sound fun. But he didn't have time to think about it, because the Faerie disappeared, and the next thing he knew he was sitting on a platform of roots with Virgil and Janus opposite him.

" _Spiders!"_ Virgil screamed. Then he trailed off. "Wait. Where am I?"

"I'm not sure," Patton admitted. "Definitely underground somewhere."

"What happened," Janus said, pulling the remnants of branches out of his hair. "Take your time, but I have to admit I'm a little curious."

Patton gave them the quickest summary he could. By the end, both Virgil and Janus were staring at him in awed horror.

"You talked to _trees_ ," Virgil said slowly. "That's, like, next-level stuff and I'm kind of scared. Not of you! But of the _trees_."

"Understandable," Janus said, watching the roots undulate around them. "So…we're being held hostage here until we save the Woods. And I have no idea how I'm supposed to do anything about that, I might add. I _make_ dragonfire, I don't destroy it."

"I'll do the magic side of things," Patton said. "You guys are just there as my…anchors? I guess? You'll keep me on track and make sure I don't do anything—stupid."

"Oh, honey, that's my favorite job!" Janus smirked. "I've had lots of practice, so on second thought, let's go."

"I mean, yeah." Virgil bit his lip and looked away. "And, like, it's our fault you're here, right? It's only fair to help out."

Patton's eyes widened. "No! No, it's not!"

"We did let go of your hand after being expressly told not to," Janus pointed out. Patton could hear that, despite his nonchalant tone, he felt guilty, too.

"You were covered with _spiders_ ," Patton said. "They wanted you to go here and that's not your fault."

"They as in the Woods," Virgil said. "You know, I'm not sure how I feel that this whole place is somewhat sentient. Does it make the danger level better or worse?" Virgil nodded to himself. "Worse. Definitely worse."

"It won't hurt you," Patton promised. "And I actually made sure of that this time. The only danger is—well, whatever the Woods warned about with the spell."

"Drowning," Janus recalled. "Not my favorite activity, no. If there's a lake, don't let Virgil push me in it."

"How many times—" Virgil threw up his hands. "I _said_ I was sorry!"

"No, you didn't." Janus looked smug. "But I forgive you."

"I think if you hold tight to me, we'll be safe," Patton said, ignoring the whisper in his mind that reminded him how _well_ that'd worked last time. "This shouldn't be too bad. You're not even part of the spell-thing. At least, I don't think so? I'm really not sure what I'm doing."

"That sounds like a problem," Virgil said. "Casting spells without knowing how they work is a _major_ problem, Pat."

"I'll figure it out as I go along." Patton bit his lip. "Guys, we're running out of time. The Woods are on fire, Logan and Remus are still waiting for us, and any moment the Woods might change their mind and dump us into darkness or something."

"Great thought," Virgil said, scooching away from the edge of the platform. "I'll just be over here."

"I trust you," Janus said, and the simplicity of it took Patton's breath away. "If you say we'll be safe, we probably will be."

"What?" Patton laughed a little. "I _got_ us here!"

"No, you didn't," Janus chided. He took Patton's hand in his own. "You're a super-powerful Fae. I think you're more qualified to know whether magic is safe or not than the rest of us. And…I trust you, like I said."

Patton stared at Janus for a few seconds, hoping his eyes could convey the gratitude he felt.

"Come back over," he said instead, turning to Virgil. "Hold my hand."

Virgil barely hesitated before scooching over and taking Patton's hand. Virgil's was cold and clammy and Janus' was just cold. Patton rubbed his thumbs over their hands to try and warm them up, and because it made them feel less like stone, less like they were back in the tunnel with the spiders around them and silken stone dripping from their hands.

He shivered.

"We'll be out," Patton said to himself. "Just this—I just have to do this—and then we're out. I'm…sorry it couldn't be more direct."

Both Janus and Virgil smiled.

"We're with you," Virgil said. "What's a little detour, anyway? It'd be a shame for the whole Woods to burn down, even though they did almost kill me."

"I'm staying," Janus said, pressing his shoulder against Patton's. Patton leaned back into him and Janus didn't seem to mind at all.

"We're doing this?" Patton asked.

Two nods.

Patton drank in every inch of his friends—the way Virgil's hair hung in his face, the little smirk that Janus' mouth always ended up twisting into but Patton didn't mind at all, and the looks they were giving him. They trusted him. Even after everything. Even without compelled honesty or even a thought-out plan, they trusted Patton.

Patton couldn't explain how grateful that made him feel.

He closed his eyes and held onto that warmth, hands tight around his friends', searching for what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to do _something_. He started with fire, but he didn't want to burn his friends, so he just held onto the feeling of fire instead. The way it sparked on his skin and flared in his chest, pure magic, blue and gleaming and intoxicatingly heavy in the back of his mouth. He held onto the feeling of _magic_.

He felt the magic all around him. The pulse through every branch, the tremble of every leaf, the fire roaring far above. It was blackening swaths of forest now, more flammable than normal fire, jumping from source to source and sending trees tumbling to the ground. The iron melted and slipped through the cracks, the leaves dried up until they were crumbling skeletons of veins, the branches crashed to the ground in a shower of sparks. Patton felt the pocket of magic that should have stopped this. It was familiar and silvery, smelling of rust and spiders and pine.

It couldn't, though. It was old and weak and crumbling at the seams and tired from nights upon nights of nightmares. And it had given too much of itself to the heart, pounding away beneath the surface, sapping power from the skeins of roots patterning the ground for miles and miles. The Woods were huge, Patton suddenly realized, bigger than the sky, sprawling far beyond the little slice he'd seen. And they were _deep_. There was so much more than trees here—there were warrens and tunnels, nests and caverns, cliffs and rivers, and every one was filled with magic in the form of curses, or creatures, or just the sound of trees and the rippling of leaves.

And this wasn't even the only Woods, of course. Patton could feel the other ones, tugging at each other, connected across the world by thin little strands. Woods buffeted by icy cold winds, dripping with icicles. Woods completely underwater, waving in the current like sea grass. Woods bent-over and dried up in a world of sand, sun beating down on the twisted shapes. Woods dripping with the third rainstorm that day, the entire ground no less than a lake. Magic all across the world. Different magic, different trees, and different people. Some of them liked the magic. Some were friends, and some were enemies, and some were gone entirely, leaving empty houses and motionless roads.

So many worlds, so many different places to explore. This was just one of them.

No 'just' about it, though. Even this magic was enough to fill Patton past the brim, a cup overflowing under a waterfall. It crashed through his head and left stars behind his eyes, and he could no longer feel his hand in Virgil's, and Janus was no more than a mirage at his fingers.

He held on. Or he hoped he did. It was hard to know. He felt completely marooned from his body, and the magic was all around them and the whole world was disappearing and the Woods were still on fire.

Patton wondered if he was supposed to say something. That would be hard, since he wasn't sure he had a mouth at the moment.

Everything was on fire, blue and white and achingly hot, and Patton couldn't take this much magic.

Not on his own.

He held on to his friends. He knew they were there. He trusted they were there.

He was going to save them. He was going to get them out of this—because he could love magic and pity dragons and wish humans understood the Fae more, and that was all well and good, but when it came down to it? He fought on his own side. He fought for his best friends. And right now, the world was ending, and right now they needed him.

They had their own magic. Patton could feel them flutter in his chest. Warm and safe. His friends were magic too, and they were powerful, and he couldn't do this without them and they couldn't do this without _him_. A perfect balance.

Maybe they weren't there. Maybe they were a part of him now, and everything was drowning, and Patton knew if he went deeper he might never make it back out.

He squeezed the hands he couldn't see. He trusted the faces he wasn't sure were there, because what else could he do?

He drew on their own little magic. Dragonfire and crossbows and yellow eyes and bangs. Everyone had magic. It just took the right place to see it.

Everything was spinning and Patton was forgetting how to breathe. But it was okay, because after they went down, they could go back up.

Patton took a deep breath and let himself dive.

Water closed over his head.

_It's raining._

_It's nighttime, too, and it's cold. November, probably—Virgil hasn't been keeping track of time much. Everything's dark. There's a frozen moon somewhere over the house and an owl keeps hooting down the road. Normally this'd be the kind of place Virgil avoided like his life depended on it. Because it does. Darkness means bears. And panthers. And even if Patton says this place doesn't have panthers, it still might, so Virgil's going to stay inside as much as possible._

_Still, he doesn't want to be outside right now._

_It's raining, which means his hand keeps slipping on his crossbow. It's dark, which means he can barely see. All his bolts are getting farther from the target, a little notch on the fence. He digs his feet into the mud and tries again._

_His bangs drip in his eyes. He pushes them aside. A bolt hits the fence with a satisfying thunk. Then another._

_The fence isn't going to survive this. It's already pockmarked from different blows. Normally Virgil would be terrified that Patton's moms will see it and kick him out. Even though Patton said they would never._

_Virgil's way past being scared right now._

_Thunk, thunk, thunk. His fingers are numb. His hands are shaking. He walks over and picks up the bolts. He's lost one. It's somewhere in the darkness and he can't bring himself to go and find it._

_Go back to his spot. Keep firing. Fire until he can hit the target every time, until he's as a good a shooter as his mom was, until he can look at a threat and fight back instead of running and hiding like he always does._

" _Pathetic," he tells himself when he misses again._

_A part of him that sounds like Patton says of course he's missing, it's raining. It's raining and dark and cold and Virgil hasn't slept well for a week._

_He can't. Not now. It's nightmares every night, and it's like a punishment, and it's a punishment Virgil knows he deserves because he ran and hid and lived and now he's here, in a rainy yard and the moon is staring at him in judgment and who is he kidding? What could he do with this? He could hit every plank in this fence, become the best shooter in the world, and it wouldn't change a thing._

_It wouldn't bring anyone back._

_Virgil's not sure if he's crying. Maybe he is. Maybe it's just the rain, soaking his skin, splashing at his feet. The whole yard is a puddle now. The goats will be scared tomorrow, he thinks idly, then remembers this house doesn't have any goats._

_A noise behind him. And Virgil remembers for a second how to be scared, as he whirls and aims his crossbow at the bear-panther-nightmare-creature sneaking up on him._

_It's Patton. He's wearing too-big pajamas and holding two mugs of hot chocolate._

_Virgil sighs and lowers his crossbow. Patton's giving him that Look again. It means Virgil's done something wrong and Patton wants to help._

_Well, a little too late for that, Patton._

" _You're up late," Patton says. "It's really cold out here."_

" _Congrats, Captain Obvious, you win a prize." Virgil hates himself the moment the words leave his mouth. "Why are you here?"_

" _To ask if you wanted to come back inside." Patton looks at the mugs in his hands. "Um, the hot chocolate is getting kind of rainy—oops—but I have more! And I can grab some cookies, too."_

_That actually sounds really awesome. Patton's cookies are to die for. But Virgil shakes his head. "No thanks. Go to sleep, Pat."_

" _I'm not tired," Patton protests, which is a complete lie. He's got bags under his eyes and he put his slippers on the wrong feet._

" _Go," Virgil says, turning away. "I'm busy."_

_There's a sound of footsteps, and Virgil thinks Patton's finally left, and that makes him feel both relieved and very, very alone._

_He glances back at the house, just once, and sees that Patton hasn't left. He's sitting by the back door, sipping hot chocolate, watching Virgil._

" _I'm waiting for you," Patton explains. He's already soaked. His hair is plastered to his skull and his pajamas are ruined. "I'll come back in with you, okay?"_

_Virgil stares at Patton and he wishes he knew what to say._

" _Take your time." Patton smiles. "I'm here when you need me, kiddo."_

_And Virgil smiles back, and it's nothing like he used to smile but Patton's proud anyway, Patton's sitting on the stoop and he's wet all through but it's worth it to see Virgil finally put his crossbow down and sit next to him, taking one of the now-lukewarm hot chocolates and even huffing a laugh when Patton cracks a terrible pun, and Patton will always be proud of this night and how brave Virgil's been—_

_It's late afternoon, and the sun is starting to set over the Woods._

_Janus isn't usually awake around now. He likes to sleep in late and stay up later. He's tired now, and his head feels like it's floating, and he really, really wants to go back to bed. But he can't always have what he wants in life. Or anything, really. That'd be, dare he say it, something a nine-year-old probably deserves._

_Janus rolls his eyes at nothing at all. If he was in charge, he'd make different rules and have everything he needed. Then he wouldn't have to wake up so early._

_He rolls his eyes again, since he's just learned how to and it's his favorite skill. He pulls on his too-big shirt and his too-small shorts, careful not to jostle the little mass of cloth he tied to his leg. It's one of Emile's extra shirts. Emile doesn't mind when Janus steals things, which Janus knows isn't normal, but it's Emile so it's fine._

_But Emile didn't have what he needs now. So Janus has to take a risk._

_A calculated risk. A risk with great reward. But a risk nonetheless, and he's learned enough by now to know that risks lead to trouble._

_Janus takes a deep breath. He can do this. He's already good at sneaking around and he knows almost all the tunnels by now. He just has to go down the hall, not wake Estella up, and get what he needs._

_Janus slips out of his room and down the tunnel._

_Estella is asleep, that's a good sign. He presses himself against the wall until he's sure she hasn't suddenly woken up. Then he steals his way into her cave. He keeps his footsteps light. He's small and skinny for his age, and that's helpful now, when he wants to blend in with the shadows on her wall._

_Hmph, Estella gets a bigger cave than Janus does. Estella's bigger, of course, but that still doesn't seem fair. Janus wants a larger cave. He wants a lot of things that he can't have yet because he's small and can barely fly and each of his bones is easily breakable._

_He doesn't know where Estella keeps things, but he figured he'd be able to see everything. He was wrong. Estella has so much stuff! Where'd she get all of it? And hey, that's Janus' yo-yo! He goes to pick it up, but Estella shifts in her sleep, and Janus decides he'll come back for it later._

_He desperately looks around. There! He runs over to the little shelf and grabs it, shoving it into his pocket. Estella snorts and Janus jumps, backing away. His heels kick a pot and it shatters with a crash._

_Estella's eyes open._

_Janus can't fly yet. Not fully. But right now, as he turns and runs as fast as he can, he feels like he's flying without his wings even open. He skids around the corner, hearing Estella yell, and runs right past his own cave because she'll look there. Remy is in his way and Janus kicks him in the shin, hard, and Remy swears but Janus is already gone, brushing past him and running deeper into the caves and crawling into a tiny tunnel and curling into a little ball and tucking his face between his legs. He'll have to hide for a while after this. Estella will forget about him eventually—everyone does—but for now, Janus will stay in the shadows._

_He pulls the bandages out of his pocket and rolls up his shorts. The cloth is sticky when he pulls it off. He'd fell in flying practice, and rocks had cut up his leg, and he knew he couldn't let anyone know because they'd laugh or worse._

_He tugs the bandages around the wound in a loose little circle. He already knows how to use them. Dragons get hurt a lot._

_It hurts when he presses, and he bites down a whimper because someone could still be looking for him, and he just needs to stay hidden and stop the bleeding and everything will be fine—_

_It's dark in the kitchen._

_Patton is making knapsacks. He's trying to remember everything he's supposed to put in them. Food, of course, and bandages and water. Virgil will have his crossbow. Janus will have…well, himself, Patton guesses. Patton represses a shudder at the thought of Janus with his scales, a burn down the side of his face._

_Patton's still not sure if he should feel guilty about that. Apparently, his brain has decided to make him feel vaguely guilty for possibly feeling guilty about Janus._

_Great. This is why he doesn't stay up late._

_Still, he thinks of his most recent nightmare and he shudders. Not today! He's going to pack everyone's bags and get ready for their little trip and things will be fine._

_He looks for silverware and realizes all of it got taken._

_It's dark in the kitchen, and Patton is doing his best to be quiet in case someone hears. He knows Mama and Virgil are heavy sleepers, but Mom can sometimes want a midnight snack. And who knows about Janus? Janus is a mystery, and Patton still feels strange about letting Janus stay in their house. He doesn't think Janus has an evil plan like Virgil does. But Janus just makes him feel…odd. Every time he looks at Patton, it's like he's evaluating Patton for strengths and weaknesses, seeing if he could fight Patton and how he would do it._

_Patton shudders again and forces thoughts of Janus out of his head. He needs to focus on packing._

_The house is creaky at night. Wind blows around the edges and hot air sits heavy in the center of each room. Usually, the heat makes it hard for Patton to sleep. Patton can't sleep now but it's not the heat's fault._

_He looks around the room. Through that door is the shop. Mom and Mama are planning to open it in a few days, even though they don't have so much to sell. They're docking prices, too. Everyone needs cheap food right now._

_Through that door, up the stairs, are Virgil and Janus. And Mom and Mama, asleep, completely unaware that Patton is about to run away._

_His throat seizes up._

_Yes, he knows he has to do this—nobody else will, nobody else is expendable like Patton is, he needs to help and if he doesn't help here it means he's hurting his best friends by leaving them behind. Yes, he knows this is the right thing to do. Yes, he wants to do this. Yes, he's sure he'll be back soon._

_But he's leaving his moms alone._

_Alone with just a quick note on the table, left to wonder if Patton is ever coming back._

_Is Patton ever coming back?_

_Will he ever see this house again?_

_He finds himself wandering through it, running his hands over the walls, touching the counter and looking at the food on the shelves. The door opens at his touch. The 'Foster's Foods' sign sways in the wind._

_It's dark outside. Patton sinks down and sits on the top step. His bare feet shiver on the cold stone. A few clouds drift far above, dark and reminding Patton of smoke._

_He looks down the street and sees too many burned houses, too many blackened outlines, too many half-destroyed roofs and crumbled walls and dead trees. He shouldn't be here. People will stare, and he needs to pack the knapsacks, and it makes him feel empty and terrible to look at this street. Even at night, usually, there are carriages and people bustling back and forth. Now there's nothing. Not even any streetlights—most of them were stolen, and the lamplighter was burned in the fire._

_It's dark, and it's too cold for summer, and Patton thinks he can still smell smoke and ash._

_And he's crying. He curls up on the stoop and cries, because everything's burned and he should be here helping but he's leaving it all behind. He's helping Logan and Remus but he's abandoning his moms and he's leaving his town to rebuild. He'll be back, or maybe not, because Janus hates them and dragons have their friends and the Iron Woods are filled with creatures that might destroy them._

_What's a knapsack in the face of that?_

_It's dark, and Patton cries until he runs out of tears, and nobody comes to check on him because everyone's asleep and nobody cares—_

_It's dark and Virgil doesn't want to die._

_His leg is broken. It's gotta be. It twists under him and it's ugly and hurts really, really bad. But he can't move it. There's no room. He's tucked in too little of a space. The stones around him are rough and he's sitting in a few inches of water. This well has always been dry. His parents complain about it. Virgil's not complaining—he'd been sure that he'd drown and die in here._

_He still might. Die, that is._

_He shivers and curls closer into himself. Maybe he should be yelling for help. He does need help. He can't stay here forever. It's cold and dark and damp and his leg hurts more than anything._

_And he does want to be found._

_He was supposed to run. They told him to run. His dad told him to run and he ran and then he tripped and now he can't run at all because there's nowhere to go._

_He can barely think. Maybe he hit his head on the well. That'd explain why he can't breathe. Everything is tight and painful. He presses his hand to his mouth and screws his eyes shut._

_He can hear people screaming. And dragons. He hears so many dragons._

_He'd never seen a dragon before today. He hopes he never has to see one again._

_It's dark and cold and Virgil is at the bottom of a well and it's terrible and he's scared to call for help._

_Everything's on fire. That's what he remembers. He remembers running out into the yard and seeing so much fire, dancing on the rooftops. It was brighter than the sun and cast the whole night into day. Virgil ran and felt like the fire was scorching him through._

_The cover on the well was gone and he fell in. It was a metal cover. Maybe a dragon took it. Dragons like metal, though Virgil doesn't get why. It's just fancy rocks. Definitely not worth burning anything over._

_He fell, and it was terrifying._

_And now he's stuck here. He tries to yell. His throat is raspy and nothing comes out._

_Maybe nobody will hear him. It's loud up there. And dark. And he catches flashes of fire, and beyond that, dark shapes in the clouds. The dragons won't see him if he stays put, he thinks wildly, and maybe his parents will find him or his brother will and everyone will be safe and it will be fine._

_He screams again and again and hopes that someone hears._

_It's dark, and Virgil doesn't want to die, and he doesn't want anyone else to die but he has a sickening feeling it's way too late for that._

_Nobody comes for hours and when they do he's pulled up into the real world, and the whole yard is ash, and he asks for his parents and nobody comes—_

_It's dark and Janus isn't where he's supposed to be._

_The last thing he remembers is smoke. He didn't cause very much of it, mostly because he's never been a fan of fire. Yes, he can create it. It can also destroy him. There's not much novelty in something that could burn you if you make a mistake—a double-bladed weapon. Janus prefers to use his words to get what he wants, or if that fails, bite and kick and scratch until someone lets him go._

_He doesn't like burning things. The smoke makes his eyes water and the ash smells sickening._

_However, most dragons he knows disagree with this. They love to burn things. They enjoy the razing of villages perhaps more than they should. Janus had never seen this firsthand until today, and he rather wishes he hadn't, but he'd made his choice. Besides, it's hardly the worst thing he's seen them do._

_It's the worst thing he's been a part of, though._

_And where did it land him? Here. Falling through the clouds as he struggled to regain his sense of direction, crouched in a courtyard with someone poking a sword at him like that was supposed to do anything, wondering if he ought to kill the human or if he could get away with just leaving it be. He couldn't fly. His wing stung and the smoke was too thick and he wished fervently that he'd just left the damn thing be and stayed behind with the other Js. This was absolutely and utterly not worth it._

_That's the last thing he remembers. The courtyard and some people running and smoke—and a searing pain down the side of his face._

_Someone's shaking his shoulder. Janus groans. Great, he must have collapsed. As if this day couldn't get any worse._

"— _they're hurt," someone is saying. "We need to get them—"_

_Janus opens his eyes._

_Strawberry curls, dust and ash smeared across a round face, obscuring several layers of freckles. Their eyes are bright with worry behind their glasses and they are very clearly human._

_Their hand is still on Janus' shoulder._

_He grabs it and throws them off him. Another human runs toward him and he stumbles backwards, crawling on his hands and knees, probably looking pathetic but he's in too much pain to stand and he needs to get out of here._

_He hits the wall and grabs it, trying to pull himself upright. If he stands, he can shift. If he shifts, he can scare them away before they hurt him, because he's weak and open to attack and this is the exact reason he should never have come here in the first place._

_Black spots dance in front of his eyes. Standing up is far harder than it should be._

" _Stop, you'll hurt yourself!"_

_Janus looks up and glares at the human. The other one is aiming his crossbow. Janus steps back, pushing at the wall, and his legs go out from under him and fantastic, this is exactly how he wanted to die, in an empty courtyard by the hands of two random humans._

_He's collapsing. He tries to hold himself upright, but he hits the ground._

_And he remembers nothing else until he wakes up in a library, face bandaged, realizing he's far from home and nobody came back to help—_

Patton.

Patton couldn't see.

Patton—

_Patton wakes to the sound of dragons._

_He hadn't thought he remembered what a raid sounded like. The last one was years ago. But it all comes flooding back when he hears the screaming, the thuds, the hiss of fire. Something roars outside his bedroom window. Between the curtains he saw the rising sun, wavering and weak through the smoke-clouded sky._

_Patton tumbles out of bed. He scrambles to his feet and tugs on his boots, not bothering to lace them. They're intact and fresh, he notices, and he misses those boots. Slamming his glasses onto his face, he runs for the door. It bursts open before he reaches it._

" _Pat!" Virgil yells. Baggy pajamas, a rat's nest of dark hair, and wide eyes._

" _I know!" Patton yells back, cupping his mouth to be heard over the roars._

_Virgil snatches his hand and pulls Patton along. Patton almost falls down the stairs, but Virgil catches him, and together they skid through the shop—_

No. No, he'd already been there. That wasn't right. He was Patton, and he—and Janus, and Virgil—

Virgil—

_Virgil is shooting at the snake. Patton's just fallen off and disappeared into the water, and Virgil is trying very hard not to panic. He can do this. He remembers all the lessons his parents gave him and he aims carefully. One bolt is already sprouting from the snake's eye. He tries to land another one._

_Patton is somewhere beneath the waves. He's not coming to the surface._

_Virgil needs to go get him, doesn't he? Someone does. Patton needs to be okay, but Virgil's still fighting, hitting his target with a thunk-thunk-thunk perfected by years of practice—_

" _Snake!" he yells at Janus, who's just standing there like an idiot. "Get Pat!"_

" _What?" Janus snaps back into himself. He steps away from the snake. "No, we need to run!"_

" _Pat's down there!"_

" _I don't care—"_

_Virgil almost screams in exasperation. He reaches out and shoves Janus in the small of the back, and Janus plummets into the water, and Virgil knows that'll come back to bite him later but screw it, if it saves Patton, it's worth it._

_Janus disappears beneath the water._

_And Patton's struggling, needing to breathe, and the world is going dark around him. And Janus swears very loudly in his head before diving deeper and grabbing Patton, coils of the snake shifting in the murky water, promising himself he'll get revenge on Virgil for this, and Virgil is still holding off the snake as he waits and hopes against hope that his brother is okay, and Patton can't breathe and the surface is too far away—_

Patton didn't know who he was.

Patton didn't know what time it was.

Patton didn't know where he was and where his friends were and how they'd gotten here in the first place.

He couldn't feel their hands in his.

He hoped they were still holding on.

He's trying.

He's trying to swim, but it's hard, and the magic crashes over them in a wave.

_And now he's Virgil. He's curled up in his bed and staring at the wall because it's one of those days where he can't bring himself to do anything else. Patton is resting next to him. Patton has a hand on his shoulder. Virgil should be hugging Patton back, but that involves moving, and right now moving is way too much work._

_Virgil doesn't like to work._

_Everything's gray and Virgil is three steps away from crying and more emotionless than he's ever felt in his life._

_It's been months, but sometimes, nights are like this._

_Patton's there. Patton's holding his shoulder and whispering to him, and Virgil can't make out the words. But he'll remember this later, and he'll smile, because even when Virgil was a complete mess Patton still stuck by his side—_

_And now he's Janus. He's trying to sleep, but it's hard. His bed is firm and his blanket is kicked under his legs until it tangles around his feet. Not good for running in case he needs to get up quickly. Janus sighs and pulls at the blanket knots, but after a few seconds he gives up entirely. Blankets are a sham. He'll just punch someone if they approach._

_He flops back onto the bed and tries to sleep._

_It's hard. Everything is too loud. Somewhere down the hall someone is screaming, and it's another shift of power, and Janus has done his best to understand them. He thought the last leader was alright. He's dead now. Janus saw his body this morning, and now everyone is fighting, because they can't dream of surviving without being on top._

_They should learn from Janus. He's learned to survive close to the bottom. All you have to do is hide and hope nobody finds you._

_It's loud, and he pulls his pillow over his head, but the screams aren't blocked out._

_He hopes Emile is okay._

_And Remy, even though Remy always calls him "babes" and it's annoying._

_Janus hopes there aren't too many bodies tomorrow morning._

_He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to sleep, and the next morning someone new is in charge, and Janus will fall in line because that's his only option, and months later the whole cycle will repeat and Janus will be back to curling in his bed and trying to ignore the screaming—_

_And now he's Patton. He's woken up sweaty from a nightmare, and the path is empty, and he bites down his screams so nobody wakes up. He hates nightmares. He'd wished they would disappear in a few days, but they've seen no sign of waning, and—_

No. He traded away his nightmares. Those nightmares were gone now, and Patton wasn't sitting on the path, and Virgil and Janus weren't asleep they were next to him, holding his hands—

_Patton wakes up screaming._

Patton was awake.

_Patton is lost._

Patton didn't know where to go.

_Patton is falling. He's falling and the Mountain erupts in flames behind him and the ground rushes up to meet him and Mara grabs him in her claws—_

_Virgil is falling and he hopes Janus will catch him and it's a stupid hope, Janus never catches anyone, he doesn't trust Janus to save them and then claws around his chest and he screams—_

_Janus is watching them fall and he's hoping he knows how to do this, he's never caught humans before, and his wing already tears painfully but the thought of leaving them behind hurts even worse, even though he'd never admit it—_

_And impact._

_And the ground misses them by a hair._

_And they come up running._

_Patton is running. He needs to get to the infirmary. People are starting to emerge, looking around warily, faces slack and shell-shocked. A house collapses as Patton passes, flames leaping hungrily in the air—_

_Janus is running. He doesn't know this town and he regrets staying as long as he did, but the buildings are too narrow to fly in and they're calling after him and he doesn't want to be a bargaining tool, he needs to fly but he can already tell his wings won't hold him—_

_Virgil is trying to run but he can't, wood is creeping up his fingers, he's screaming and he doesn't care because he's losing himself and everything is turning to darkness—_

_Patton is small and bored, swinging from his mom's hand. He meets Virgil in a sandpit. They make a little castle together. Virgil makes the guards and Patton makes the princesses._

_Virgil is smaller and not bored at all, racing with his brother and sisters. He has to stumble to keep up. Every time he doesn't run fast enough, his mom takes pity on him. She carries him to the finish line and he wins._

_Janus is small and flying, really flying for the first time. The wind around him is intoxicating. If he wanted, he could leave. He could fly towards the sun and see what else there is in the world._

_Patton is. Virgil is. Janus is. Patton-Virgil-Janus-Virgil-Janus-Patton—_

Virgil. Patton could feel Virgil's hand in his own. Virgil, firm and steady, and Patton squeezed it, and Virgil squeezed back. All Patton could see was sky, but he knew Virgil was sitting right across from him, and Virgil was safe.

Patton grasped for Janus' hand. He could feel it, an echo, a little breeze. Janus was here. Janus was here and he was going to keep him close.

Janus—

_Janus is diving deeper into the water, grabbing Patton and pulling him up—Janus is sitting across from Patton and watching Patton laugh, and thinking he likes Patton a lot more when Patton laughs—Janus is watching Patton as Patton twitches under layers of spiders, and he can't do anything because he's still silenced but he hopes Patton can do this—Janus is landing and spilling Logan and Remus to the ground, and turning to Virgil and saying they're going back and not waiting for an answer—Janus is catching Patton around the waist as Patton falls—Janus is talking to Patton under the endless night sky and feeling like he could fly away and find a home for himself—Janus is tugging at Patton's hands as a voice says he'll never be anything more than a coward who hides in places he doesn't belong, and then the bridge catches on fire—Janus is watching Patton and smiling despite himself—Janus is saving Virgil because Virgil really isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things—Janus is hitting Virgil on the back of the head because he's scared and in the end he'll never be anything more than that—Janus is hugging Patton fiercely and holding back tears—Janus is—_

Janus was here.

Janus was holding Patton's hand. Patton could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, and hear his breathing. Janus was here. Patton was here. Virgil was here.

Patton swam up.

_Patton is trying his best to lie without anyone knowing. Patton is playing on his own because nobody wants to play with him. Patton is answering every question because it hurts to stop. Patton is terrified of his nightmares. Patton is guilty for hurting Janus. Patton is ashamed of the way he feels. Patton is imperfect and trying and struggling and it's laid out bare for his brother to see, and for Janus to see, and this should scare him but it doesn't because he's not hiding anymore. He's not lying anymore. He is who he is, every little piece, and Virgil is who Virgil is, and Janus is who Janus is, and they can work to be better but they can't do that without taking it all in. The good and the bad. Everything is so complicated and multifaceted and gray and it's beautiful, the spectrum, the way everyone has so many little pieces of themselves._

_It's beautiful._

_They've come so far, and it's beautiful._

Patton burst through the surface.

The world caught on fire.

_Fires whisk out and creatures hesitantly poke their noses out, looking around at the smoky remains._

_Branches arch over the chasm, a sphinx happily yammering to himself as he watches, the thorns bursting into life and blue roses clambering over them._

_A little ball of fire slips into the Mountain and finds Emile, and nuzzles him, and when the fights start, fire erupts between them, and it's clear who Patton chose. Janus has good taste and Janus would like it this way._

_The Woods sway at the edge of the cornfields. A few saplings sprout from a well and grow a tree filled with deep red apples. A woman bustles out of the farmhouse and stares. She's not very nice, but maybe she can be better, if she tries._

_The Woods ripple. A snake curls up in its lake and soothes the burns on its scales._

_The Woods twist. Gryphons slip into their nests as the last embers die._

_The Woods shift. A Faerie sits on her throne, half-there and half-not, rooted deeply and giving Patton a reluctant smile. She's still powerful, and she's still who she is, but Patton's gained her respect._

_The fires go out. And for a second they're replaced with blue, blue magic and blue fire and blue iron and blue leaves, spiraling into the air and leaping for joy. Patton can fight fire with fire, after all. The Woods are burning with his magic and he is at the center and the roots curl around him and he's on fire but his friends are here and they won't let him burn away._

Patton was sitting in the center of the Iron Woods, it was dark, and his friends were by his side.

He opened his eyes and smiled.

The world wrenched around them.

And they stumbled off the path onto an empty road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> patton: i'm saving the world what do you need
> 
> the woods: unlimited power
> 
> patton: a bagel
> 
> the woods: no
> 
> patton: two bagels


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: kissing

Patton immediately fell to his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like all his organs had been torn out, shuffled, and shoved back into place. His head spun. He focused on the sensation of dirt under his fingers and wind in his hair.

He was here, he was safe, he wasn't spiraling through time and space and sinking out of everyone's grasp.

"Patton!"

Patton looked up to see Virgil running toward him.

"Virgil!" Patton said, climbing to his feet. "Are you okay?"

"You did it!" Virgil was beaming, huge and happy, and he crashed into Patton with arms outstretched. Patton reached up and hugged him back. "You did it, Pat, you did it!"

"I did it," Patton repeated. He looked around at the empty road. Familiar cornfields and a brilliant blue sky. Behind them were the Woods, shadowy, and Patton caught a flash of blue fire deep within. He smiled at it.

"Pat."

Janus was standing there, a hesitant smile on his face, hair swept back and eyes glowing in the sun.

Patton threw Virgil off of him, Virgil only laughing in retaliation, and charged over to Janus. Janus caught him and spun him around, again and again, laughing.

It was a sunny day, and Patton finally settled into place.

"You're a genius," Janus whispered, pressing his forehead to Patton's. "You did it, you ridiculous genius."

"I had no idea what I was doing," Patton admitted. "I—I almost lost you guys."

"You couldn't get rid of me that easily." Janus tangled their hands together. "I've still got so many people to annoy."

"You guys saw all that too, right?" Virgil's hands were stuck behind his back, probably because he couldn't hide them in his hoodie pockets. "All the, y'know…memories?"

Janus stiffened, just a bit.

"Yep," Patton said softly. "I don't mind much. Do you?"

"I thought I would." Virgil shrugged. His eyes were on Janus. "But I didn't, not really."

Janus looked between them. For a second, his eyebrows creased and he looked hesitant. It was the face of someone who'd just had their life bared and wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"I wouldn't like it to happen again," Janus said smoothly. "But…I suppose if it had to be with anyone, I don't mind it being you two."

"Aww!" Patton squealed. "You like us!"

"I most certainly do not."

"You do!" Patton poked Janus' nose and laughed when Janus wrinkled it. "You like me and I like you!"

Because it was the truth. Patton's memories of everything were vague, but he remembered himself through Janus' eyes clearer than everything—glowing even without magic, giggling and making Janus want to giggle as well, impossible to look away from.

Janus liked him. A lot.

And Janus had probably seen Patton's side of things. The way Patton always felt safe with Janus nearby. How much he liked Janus' smile. How he'd gladly burn a Mountain for him, control a forest for him, and find him on every path even if Janus was hiding. Janus had seen all that. Janus knew, and Patton knew, and they were hugging and staring at each other. It was warm and it was sunny and the world had just begun.

"Ugh, you're such saps," Virgil complained. "Just kiss already so we can get a move on."

Patton squeaked and blushed, giving Virgil a _shut-up-now-please_ look.

"You know," Janus said thoughtfully, pulling Patton a little closer, "that's not a bad idea, actually."

Patton squeaked again. Janus was very close. It was warm and sunny and Patton felt suddenly like he could _have_ this, this was _his_ , and it wasn't going to burn up and disappear.

Janus tilted his head, a silent question.

Patton leaned forward and kissed him.

He kept it quick and light at first, barely brushing Janus' lips. Then Janus wound a hand around his waist and pulled him closer, his other hand resting in Patton's hair. Patton closed his eyes and sank into it, tangling his hand in Janus', running one hand down Janus' cheek. He felt the burn that dipped around his nose and rested in the crook of his mouth. It was smooth beneath Patton's fingers and Janus almost gasped when Patton touched it, arm tightening around Patton and pulling them impossibly closer.

It was warm, and it was sunny, and Patton felt like he could melt into this moment and stay here forever.

They lingered there way longer than they needed to, just resting their lips against each other's, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. Patton placed a final kiss to Janus' lips and did a whole-body shimmy as he pulled away, grinning widely, probably looking really silly but just so bouncy and happy and sunny that he couldn't help but smile at Janus.

Janus smiled back, rubbing a bit of dirt from Patton's forehead.

Patton stood there for a second longer, enjoying the feeling of Janus' arms wrapped around him, trying to memorize every detail of Janus' eyes.

Then Janus froze. "Wait—Virgil—"

"Virgil!" Patton turned around. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

Virgil, who was staring pointedly at the ground, started to laugh. "I'm looking away, I do not see it." He raised his hands in surrender. "Good for you guys, though."

Patton laughed too and stepped away from Janus, still holding his hand. "We're done now, kiddo."

"Finally." Virgil snickered and raised his head, looking around. "Where are Remus and Logan?"

"Right here," said a voice.

Patton whirled and saw Logan and Remus sitting together in the shoulder of the road, Remus balancing a corncob on his nose, head in Logan's lap. Logan was running his hands through Remus' hair.

"We've been waiting for you to notice us," Logan explained. "It was Remus' idea."

Remus nodded. "Took y'all a while! You're not very observant!"

"You're okay?" Patton asked, running over.

"Pretty as pie," Remus said, jumping to his feet. He grabbed Logan's hand and helped him up. "Glad you guys are alright."

"I second that." Logan bit his lip. "It was…rather stressful, waiting for you."

"The forest was on fire!" Remus exclaimed. "And then it was all blue! And then it went shifty-shifty and you guys just _appeared!"_

"Yeah." Virgil grinned. "You won't believe what we ended up doing."

"Storytime can wait," Janus said, looking around at the empty road. "I think we should plan what we do next."

"Do we have to walk back?" Patton groaned. "I hated walking back!"

"Same," Virgil said. "Plus Jan is still injured, and we have like _no_ food or water or anything."

"I can fly a few of you," Janus suggested. "Perhaps two trips?"

Patton furrowed his brow in concentration. He turned back to the Woods, still standing at the edge of the cornfields, digging into the ground and stretching farther than he could see. In the distance was the Mountain, barely peeking above them. The leaves rustled in the wind like always, but the shadows didn't look mysterious and terrifying anymore. Sometimes it was nice to hide in the shadows. It kept you safe.

A flicker of blue fire between the trees.

"Hey," Patton told the Woods, because why not? "You heard him, we need a ride home. Anyone up to help?"

Another flicker of fire.

"Um." Virgil winced. "Pat, I hate to break it to you, but most everyone in there actively tried to kill us—"

Patton pouted. "I think if we—"

Two of the trees bent out of the way.

And a unicorn burst onto the road, chestnut coat gleaming, golden hooves skidding in a circle before trotting to a stop.

"Horse!" Remus shrieked. "Giant horny horse! Hello!"

"Shut up," Virgil said. "Do you ever _shut up?"_

Patton gasped and beamed. "Hi! I remember you! How's your leg?"

The unicorn shook its leg and gamboled in a circle, showing it off. Their movement was fluid, almost unnaturally so—it tended to appear just to the left of wherever Patton looked.

"That's awesome!" Patton said as the unicorn stopped. "So, we need to go home. I know it's quite far from the Woods, but since you made it out of here anyway—I think I might have summoned you—how do you feel about a quick little vacation?"

The unicorn gestured to its leg with its horn and Patton took that to mean 'it's only fair.'

"Yay!" Patton clapped his hands and reached out to rub the unicorn's muzzle. "Thank you!"

Logan leaned over to Virgil. "Is this…normal for him?"

"He does stuff sometimes," Virgil said, barely looking surprised. "And knows stuff and talks to stuff and…yeah. You get used to it."

"Jan!" Patton exclaimed as the unicorn circled him again. "I told you helping it would pay off!"

"Fine, you win." Janus rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at his lips. Now that they'd kissed, Patton realized, his eyes tended to automatically look at Janus' lips. They were nice lips! "The unicorn was useful. Guess I was wrong about everything."

Patton's smile softened. "You and I both know that's not true."

Janus smiled back, and Patton could bask in that smile forever, except they still needed to go home.

 _Home_.

They were going home.

"Who's with me?" Patton asked. "And who's with Janus?"

"I'll go with you," Virgil immediately volunteered. He rubbed at his neck sheepishly. "Um, Jan, I really do trust you, but if I get the choice—yeah. No dragons."

"Understandable," Janus said. "Logan and Remus?"

"We're sticking together!" Remus pressed a sloppy kiss to Logan's cheek and Logan didn't look disgusted. He actually blushed. "Let's go, clods!"

Janus rolled his eyes, extended his wings, and curled up on the road. His scales were blindingly bright in the sun. He gave Patton a little huff and Patton waved at him.

Logan and Remus clambered onto his back, and Janus tapped them with his tail to make sure they were in place. Then he took off, wings thin but strong, gaining height and skimming above the cornfields, following the road and a beautiful smear against the blue.

"You and me now," Patton told the unicorn. The unicorn lowered itself, but it took Patton two tries to mount it. Virgil climbed up after him and wrapped his hands around Patton. The unicorn pawed at the road, snorting and tossing its mane, ready to go.

"Slow," Patton said, smiling. "Just follow Jan, okay?"

The world started to move around them.

And the unicorn bolted down the road, cornfields turning to green smears, the only constant Janus above them and the sun beating down on them. It was almost too fast to feel the heat. Patton ran his hand down the unicorn's beautiful flank and threw his other hand out, wind twisting around his fingers.

He laughed. Nothing was really funny, but it was warm and sunny and they were leaving the Woods far behind them.

Patton looked back to the Woods. They still sat at the end of the road, deep green and mysterious. He felt a sense of loss as he moved, watching the trees retreat, the magic in his chest flickering sadly.

That could have been his home, if things were different. He could have grown up there. He could have learned magic as something to be cherished, not something to repress.

It could have been home, but as things were, home was ahead of them on an empty country road. Home was Virgil, clinging to Patton, watching the corn streak past. Home was Janus, flying steadily above them, Logan and Remus secure on his back.

It was hard to be sad about what-ifs when the present was this bright.

They ran on.

Janus dipped from one side of the road to the other, crossing ahead of them. His shadow flickered over Patton, a little respite from the sun, and Patton grinned.

The road unfurled below them, and the Woods sunk out of sight, and the sky was bluer than ever.

After everything, they were going home.

Patton laughed again. Then he whooped. He stuck his head in the air and whooped and cheered as they sped down the road. He let the sun caress his face and the wind tangle his hair. He didn't have to fight anymore. He didn't have to hide. Nothing was flaming, nothing was drowning, and Patton was heading home.

The road wound below them, endless, and Janus flew next to Patton, and Virgil was by his back and Logan and Remus were there and safe and they'd _won_. Except no, they hadn't—it hadn't been a competition like that.

They'd survived.

They'd grown.

Just like magic, that was all they really needed, all Patton could ask for.

He was safe, his friends were safe. And they were going home, all together, under a bright sun and an infinite sky.

Patton didn't think he could stop smiling if he tried.

There was a commotion when they arrived.

Patton couldn't blame everyone, to be honest. A dragon and a unicorn carrying several missing and presumed-kidnapped kids was probably the weirdest thing that had happened in months. But nobody attacked, which was nice. Patton dropped off the unicorn and leaned against the Liberty Tree. Meet there in case of an emergency, that was the rule, and he figured it would be a nice place to go.

Logan and Remus hopped off Janus' back, and Janus shifted back to human, walking over to Patton and looking him up and down.

"What's up?" Patton asked, trying not to giggle.

"Just making sure you're alright."

"I traveled by unicorn! It's very safe!" Patton turned to the unicorn. "Thank you so much! I hope you have a great day!"

The unicorn inclined its head, and with a flash of golden hooves, disappeared.

People were already starting to gather. They stayed at the edge of the grass, like they were afraid to step closer. Patton waved at them.

"We're here." Virgil grinned and lay down on the ground, spreading his arms wide. "We're back."

Logan and Remus were quiet. Patton looked at them and saw they were just standing together, shoulders bumping each other, staring at the town like they couldn't believe it was real.

Janus, for his part, was trying to step behind the tree. "Lovely place," he said awkwardly.

"Come on out, silly," Patton said, smiling at him. "Anyone gives you any trouble, I'll light them on fire."

"Violent."

"But effective."

Janus laughed and leaned forward, maybe to keep teasing and maybe to kiss Patton, and Patton was okay with either.

Then they heard a wild yell. " _Remus!"_

Roman was running over, pushing past the crowds and charging towards them without hesitation. Remus made a strangled noise and lunged at him, sending them both crashing to the ground.

"You're back!" Roman yelled, hugging Remus and trying to punch him at the same time, rolling around in the grass and grinning wildly. "You're back, you idiot, where've you been—you're _okay_ — _Remus_ —"

"Miss me?" Remus choked out, before hugging Roman tight and burying his face in Roman's shoulder. Roman hugged him back just as tight.

"It's good to see you," Logan offered, sitting next to them.

"Specs!" Roman's face lit up and he tackled Logan in a hug as well, still dragging Remus into it. They ended up in a pile on the ground, Roman trying to hug both of them at once, Remus openly sobbing and Logan a little misty-eyed as well.

"Patton!" Roman yelled, looking up. " _Virgil!"_

Patton took that as a cue to walk over. Remus grabbed Patton's sleeve and forced him into the pile. Virgil dove in of his own accord. He wrapped an arm around Roman's shoulders and smiled.

"Missed you, Princey."

"Shut up, Emo Nightmare." Roman was crying now, and Virgil was sniffing, and Patton found himself the only one not crying. He was just laughing, hugging each of his friends over and over, grass stains on his clothes but not caring in the slightest.

As Logan investigated Roman's sling and interrogated him about whether he was allowed to hug people, Patton looked up. Janus was lingering by the tree, rubbing at his arm, a little smile on his face.

"Come on over!" Patton encouraged. "We don't bite!"

Janus winced. "I'm not sure if—"

"So," Roman said, watching Janus. "He's a good one?"

"He's great," Patton said. "He helped us a ton, and—I think we're dating now?"

"Yeah, basically single-handedly saved our butts," Remus added. "He's hurt, Lo-bot can try and help—"

Roman nodded and his eyes narrowed in determination. "Hey! Janus! Get over here!"

Janus looked surprised, but he sat next to Roman. Roman turned to him and pulled him into a fierce hug.

"Thank you," Roman whispered. "For helping them."

"I—" Janus gaped wordlessly for a few seconds before bringing his arms up and hugging Roman back. "It wasn't that big of a deal. And…I'm sorry about your shoulder. And your town."

Roman laughed. "Eh, Remus has done worse. It's fine."

"He's done worse than arson?" Virgil asked, eyes wide.

Remus grinned. "Oh, you have no idea."

Logan just sighed.

And Patton dove back into the center of them, hugging each and every one of them, Janus slipping a hand into his and Virgil laughing and Remus ruffling everyone's hair and Roman squeezing the life of everyone who stepped near him. The other people were still watching them. Soon, Patton would hug his moms and apologize. Soon, Remus and Roman and Logan would find their families. Soon, Patton would have to figure out where Janus was going to sleep—because he had a feeling, once they knew what happened, his moms would be okay with another friend in the house.

"A boyfriend," he corrected himself out loud.

"Hmm?" Janus asked.

"You're my boyfriend?" Patton asked. He tried to sound a little casual, but all his hope bled through.

Janus looked a little surprised again, but his 'oh' softened into a smile. "Of course."

"Boyfriend!" Patton squealed and lunged at Janus, peppering little kisses all over his face. Janus giggled—giggled! Oh, he was too cute—and caught Patton before they fell to the ground. It was messy, filled with grass stains, and soon Janus would have to tend his wound and Patton would have to test his magic and Virgil would have to get a new hoodie.

Right now, though, he was surrounded by his friends, under the tree. They'd finally made it here, all six of them. They'd run here and made it.

Finally.

Finally, everyone was safe.

The sun was shining, everyone was laughing, Virgil was giving Patton a little shoulder-bump and a smile, Janus was cupping Patton's chin and pulling him in for a kiss.

Not perfect, maybe. Not forever. Not all sorts of things, and it had definitely never been what Patton expected. Maybe not exactly what he'd hoped for. The world was still shattered into little pieces, and the Woods were still far away, and the dragons might still attack again, and they had a million things to sort through.

Not perfect, but enough. So much more than enough. Imperfect and beautiful and the flaws only made it more real. This was real. He was finally _here_. He was here, he'd made it, and all his friends were here with him. His brother was here with him. Janus was here with him. It was a sunny day and the world was open wide.

Not perfect.

But Patton loved it anyway.

The sun had just set and the last bits of color were sinking between the horizon in last-gasp flutters of pink and red. Streetlights cast yellow spotlights and deep purply shadows over the cobblestones, most of them restored, although a few shipments were still needed from the city so people carried their own torches with them. The flames guttered in the wind and turned everyone into silhouettes, flames clustered in groups where people laughed and talked together, peeling off in pairs and families as everyone said their goodbyes and went home.

It had been a good party. Janus and Patton had danced, even though Patton didn't know how to dance and Janus had lied about being able to teach him. They ended up just swaying in a circle and bouncing to the really upbeat folk tunes. Virgil and Roman danced a bit, which consisted of them arguing about who got to lead. Remus and Logan were the best dancers by far, except when Remus tried to dip Logan, fell over, and left them a pile of laughter on the ground.

But parties had to end, and here Patton was, sitting under the Liberty Tree and enjoying the night.

A few stars winked into the sky. The moon was slim and mostly covered by a cloud bank in the west. It would rain later, and Patton would have to make sure the makeshift patch-job on his roof would hold the water. But that was later. Right now, it was a warm, solid night buzzing with crickets and smelling of the first hint of fall.

Already the leaves were turning orange at the tips. Soon it would be harvest season, and the crop would be smaller this year thanks to the raid. But next year it'd be back to normal. After that, who knew?

Patton hummed to himself and curled closer to the tree. It was hard to worry about stuff like that right now. The summer winds were thick and heavy around him. His face curled into a lazy smile without him realizing.

Right now, Logan and Remus were probably holding hands. Virgil and Roman were probably teasing each other. Mom and Mama would be talking with their friends, and Janus—well, Patton had left Janus with Virgil, but Janus and Roman had a tendency to get very loud and energized in their discussions so it was very possible that Virgil had shoved Janus over to Logan instead. Patton chuckled. They really got along so well most of the time, he couldn't complain.

He ran his hand through the grass. It tickled his fingers and toes. Patton sighed and leaned back until his head rested against the bark. He stared up at the Liberty Tree, making out a few stars between the leaves.

He liked coming here. It wasn't perfect, but he couldn't go to the woods out west every day, so he'd settle for this. A tree, tall and sturdy, roots spreading under the soil and leaves rustling in the wind.

Patton didn't realize how much he liked trees until he'd returned home and discovered how few there really were. He'd learned how to climb them. He'd gotten Logan to teach him all different types. The Liberty Tree was a red maple. It was deciduous, which meant it would lose its leaves in the fall. Patton was dreading that. He didn't want to lose his little shield of green. He didn't want to look up and see only sticks.

But that was part of the process, he guessed. He couldn't just get the fullest tree with the shiniest green leaves without getting a bare tree too. And the leaves would be back like clockwork. He could even check the almanac and see when exactly they'd return—and then he'd see them bud and unfurl in tender shoots of hesitant green, and a springtime tree was always a treat so that made winter worth it in the end.

Patton adjusted his seating so he slotted between two of the roots, pressed his head to the tree, and closed his eyes. He could hear the rustling of leaves, the distant chatter of the people, the little violins that were still playing, and the cicadas calling to each other. In the distance was the hoot-hoot of an owl. It really was a beautiful night.

The tree beneath him creaked and shifted and he could almost pretend he was part of it, sinking into the landscape, older than words and able to enjoy this moment forever. He wouldn't even mind being made of wood, not really, if it got him an endless summer.

But winter was part of things too, and winter brought spring, and summer always turned to fall and Patton had to take the good with the bad.

Besides, winter had snow! And hot chocolate and holidays and ice skating! So it wasn't all bad, really. Not in the slightest.

Patton placed a hand on one of the roots and imagined he could hear it talk.

Trees here weren't like the ones in the Iron Woods. _Patton_ wasn't like he was in the Iron Woods. He could barely summon fire unless he concentrated hard. He didn't feel the little connection he had to the Woods, like he was safe there, and he definitely couldn't teleport anywhere. There was no magic in town.

It was okay, though, because there were the people he loved.

And he could keep a little magic for himself anyway.

Patton spread his hand and let a few sparks drift around him, his favorite shade of bright blue, warm and steady. They looked like fireflies from a distance. He watched them spiral up to the limbs of the Liberty Tree and circle the bark a few times. There was some rot on that side, and that branch there would fall off soon, and the whole tree could stand to grow a little taller.

Patton smiled and let his hand glow.

The tree filled with little sparks. Fireflies dipping in and out, weaving, and nobody but Patton could probably see the way the tree straightened and widened its stance, fluffing out its leaves and binding its bark even tighter.

Patton was glowing now. A soft little edge of blue covered his skin and the roots around him. He smiled and basked in the feeling—magic, just a little bit of it, sweet and smoky and so familiar.

"Don't tell me. You're teaching it to do your homework."

Patton jumped and turned around. Janus was walking towards him, and of course Patton hadn't heard him coming. Even after weeks, he still usually snuck around places like he didn't want to be spotted. It might take a long time for that to change, Mama had said. Patton was patient.

"Or it'll play a prank on Roman tomorrow. Or it'll do your chores." Janus smirked and settled into a divot next to Patton, setting his hand on a root. Patton took it. "Come on, help me out here, I can't guess all day."

Patton giggled. "I'm just looking after it! It's got some rot, and I thought it could grow bigger if I helped."

Janus smiled back. "I feel I should point out that people may notice."

"I don't care." Patton leaned back and watched his fire circle the branches. "I like it."

Janus let out a breath and Patton saw that he was watching the magic too. It reflected in his eyes and illuminated the edge of his jaw. He'd pulled his hair out of its ponytail and it settled around him in glossy waves, the same color as the bark.

Patton smiled to himself and wiggled his fingers. A little piece of fire wobbled down from above and booped Janus on the nose. Janus jumped, hissed, and snickered in quick succession before swatting at Patton and rolling his eyes.

"I couldn't help it," Patton defended. "You were just sitting there being so cute!"

Janus rolled his eyes again and pretended he wasn't blushing. "I should have expected this."

"You should have," Patton agreed. "You come near me, you get complimented. It's the rules."

"Rules are made to be broken." Janus glanced at Patton. "I'm curious how long you've been here."

"No idea," Patton said. "Did—did you guys miss me? Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine." Janus gave Patton another careful look. "I just…thought I would check on you."

"I'm alright," Patton said, leaning into Janus' shoulder. "Just…thinking, I guess."

"Thinking," Janus repeated. "A dangerous activity indeed."

"Shush, you dork." Patton poked him in the cheek. "I was just thinking about—us, I guess. Everything that happened. How much everything's changed."

"How much you miss the Woods."

Patton started.

"Oh, don't give me that, it's obvious." Janus bumped Patton's shoulder. "I have to admit I don't share your love for the place, but you're clearly upset without it."

"I'm not upset," Patton said, which was the truth. But he also didn't know what he _was_ , exactly. "I guess I'm just…those were terrible weeks, but I wish—"

"You wish you could stay there," Janus finished.

Patton opened his mouth to agree. Because that's what he'd been thinking all these weeks, wasn't it? He wished he could stay in the Woods and be safe and look after the trees and hide in the shadows and have his magic jump to his hand whenever he needed it.

"I do," Patton said slowly, "but I also know I can't."

Janus lifted an eyebrow in a silent question.

"You wouldn't be there," Patton explained.

Janus blinked a few times.

"You wouldn't be there, and neither would Virgil, and neither would Ro and Remus and Logan and my moms. And the whole town—I love it here. It's my home." Patton looked back up at the tree, still glowing blue against the steadily darkening sky. "It's not perfect, but it's home."

"I'd come with you."

That was the last thing Patton expected Janus to say. He pulled himself upright to stare at him. "What?"

"I'd come with you," Janus repeated, looking a little awkward. "If you decided to become a magical Fae hermit in the Iron Woods, I'd stay with you."

Patton pressed his hand to his mouth. "Oh my gosh, Jan, that's so sweet!"

"It's not—" Janus waved a hand, blushing. "It's not sweet, it's just what a boyfriend would do—"

"You're so sweet!" Patton pressed a kiss to Janus' cheek. "But don't worry, not necessary. I'm staying."

"If you're sure," Janus said softly.

Patton huffed. "What, do you think I'm keen on cliffs and giant snakes and multi-headed nightmare abominations? Just because the Woods let us all live because I helped it doesn't mean everything inside it personally won't attack me."

"At least there won't be any Fae to curse you," Janus pointed out. "You could curse _them_ if you wanted."

"No, I couldn't," Patton said, laughing. "And I wouldn't! That's so mean!"

"All I'm saying is, I see an opportunity here," Janus teased. "Curse Virgil if he keeps stealing my shirts."

"They were his shirts first!"

"I wear them so much better than he does."

Patton settled for huffing and shoving Janus lightly. Because Janus did have a point. He looked very cute in black shirts and hoodies.

"Anyway, she might be still around," Patton added, his voice falling slightly. "My…the Faerie. She stepped back, but who knows if she actually died. I don't know if she _can_ die, at least in the way humans do."

"Feel free to go and find out," Janus said. "I'm going to stay far away from the controller of my curse, thank you."

Patton laughed a little and started toying with Janus' sleeve. Without realizing it, he'd shifted his weight from the tree to Janus. Janus was holding him up without complaint, even curling one hand into his hair in the way Janus liked to do, like he was shielding Patton from a fire.

"Your curse," Patton finally murmured.

"Oh." When Janus spoke he moved, and Patton felt Janus' voice vibrate in his chest. "Is that…that's bothering you, isn't it."

"Hard not to," Patton said. "We still haven't figured it out."

"It's a curse, Pat, it's not going to be clear-cut."

"Still." Patton looked up at Janus. "Do you think it already came true?"

"Yes," Janus said simply. "Those weeks were absolutely terrifying, and if something in my life somehow ends up being _more_ dangerous than that, I think I'll simply surrender and succumb to the mercy of death."

Patton chuckled. "When do you think it was, then?"

"You first," Janus said, moving closer to Patton. Patton snuggled into him. A few blue lights drifted around them. Below, the streetlights illuminated the winding roads. The blacksmith courtyard was half-complete—Janus had personally helped with building some of the new walls. He said it was only fair. Candles were sparking in some of the windows as people retreated to their houses, saying their goodnights. It was getting late. Patton's moms would be looking for him soon.

But not yet. They had a little while longer.

"I think…" Patton walked himself through everything that had happened. "I think it was when you lost the fight with those dragons. In the heart of the Mountain. Or maybe when you lost your grip during the teleportation."

Janus nodded. "Very simplistic, I see."

"What? That's how your story goes, right?" Patton shrugged. "Lose a fight, strength fails, death."

"There hasn't been any death yet." Janus paused. "And I…personally, I think Virgil's version might have been more accurate."

"Where he succumbs to evil and drowns a child?" Patton sat up and pouted at Janus. " _Jan_ , have you been drowning newborns again?"

Janus laughed, full and beautiful, tossing his head back and letting it bubble up. Patton would never get tired of seeing that.

"No," he finally managed with a few chuckles afterwards. "I thought…more about the 'strength of will to avoid evil' part of the story." Janus worried his lip for a brief second. "I thought it was…when I hurt you."

"Oh," Patton said. Remembering Janus' hands on his wrists.

Janus' hand was in his now, and it was so different, so cool and kind and soft and gentle, that Patton couldn't believe it had been the same person.

"Or maybe when I came with you," Janus continued. "I didn't have the strength to stay no and remain at the Mountain."

Patton shook his head. "Not that one. I think it took way more strength to say _yes_."

Janus was silent for a moment, running his hand through Patton's hair, letting a little blue fireball drift between his feet.

"Maybe we're both wrong," Janus said. "Maybe it'll come back to bite me later. Maybe it never came to pass at all and will destroy me when I'm dangling from the edge of a cliff over a rushing waterfall."

Patton nuzzled his shoulder. "That's pretty rude."

Janus snorted, but the silence afterwards made Patton look up. Janus was staring at his knees. Patton tangled their hands together and pressed his shoulder to Janus', as a reminder that Patton was there, and if Janus wanted to talk he'd be here.

"You aren't…" Janus seemed like he was choosing his words carefully. "Scared. That I might become corrupted by magic, or that I'll…get hurt."

"You won't be," Patton said firmly.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do!" Patton pulled up his chin. "It's not gonna happen because I say it's not!"

Janus finally looked at Patton, and to Patton's relief, he was smiling a bit. "I don't think that's how it works."

"Well, I don't care."

"You don't care about very much this evening, I've noticed."

Patton shook his head. "No, I've just got priorities."

Janus smirked a little. "What's the priority?"

"You."

"Oh."

Patton smiled to himself as he waited for Janus to stop blushing and continue the conversation. When it became clear Janus wasn't going to string sentences together for a while, Patton decided to take pity on him.

"You know what I think we should do?" Patton asked, tracing a heart on Janus' palm. "We should try to set off the curse ourselves, without you dying, so it's fulfilled. What's something that takes a lot of strength to do?"

"Carrying stones," Janus said without hesitation. "Helping with the reconstruction of your town is _tiring_."

"Hmm." Patton wrinkled his nose. "No, falling stones could kill you. Anything else?"

Janus looked around at the darkness. It was just them and the little blue fire and the tree, sitting on the grass, more stars sinking into existence as the sky turned from blue to black. A surprisingly cold wind swept them, and Patton shivered. Janus instinctively drew him closer.

"Staying here," Janus finally said, so quietly it was barely more than another rustle of leaves.

Patton nodded. Yeah. He understood that, and _he_ hadn't been the one to leave his whole family behind. Janus had done such a great job of adapting, but Patton knew he still felt lost sometimes. Like he'd traded away everything he knew for nothing at all. Like he didn't _belong_ anywhere or he only belonged back on the Mountain. Like he didn't deserve to be a part of this.

Patton did his best to counteract that, but it was Janus' fight, and Patton couldn't win the battle for him. He could only sit next to Janus and hold his hand and promise that Janus always had Patton, no matter what. That stuff was tough right now, but things would be better soon. It reminded Patton of Virgil in a way, of the difficult days when Virgil barely got out of bed. They'd both lost their family. But Virgil had lost his for good in a sudden blaze. And Janus' had turned their back on him.

Janus deserved this, though. Patton knew that more than anything. Janus deserved the world, and Janus deserved to be happy, and Janus deserved to be loved. Janus deserved the time he'd first tasted Patton's cookies, and the way he laughed now like he didn't care if someone saw him, and the beautiful dress he'd worn to Logan's birthday party that Patton admittedly stared at for more than ten minutes. He deserved everything.

And Patton deserved _Janus_. That was another thing they'd worked on and another truth that they struggled with. Because Patton had bad days, too. He'd gotten better with hiding them, but sometimes he couldn't help but put up walls, because he couldn't believe why Janus had chosen to be with such a screwup who hurt the person they loved.

It was bad, some days.

But the bad came with so much good, and the bad was lessening slowly, and sometimes it was winter but spring always came eventually.

And now it was summer, long and languid and full of possibilities, and Patton was here and Janus was here and Janus wasn't going to leave.

"I like you here," Patton said, like that could explain everything in his head. And oddly, it did.

"Me too," Janus said.

Fire floated around them. One ball nestled up to Patton's palm, feeling like a small jolt of electricity, a little wisp of flame. Patton blew on it and sent it spiraling up to the sky like a bubble.

"Accepting help," Janus said, finally. It took Patton a minute to realize he was talking about things that required strength again. "Flying when it's raining, dealing with Roman…" He turned to Patton and smirked. "Not kissing you every time I see you."

"Really?" Patton giggled and moved closer. "Well, I think we've found one we know how to deal with."

Janus laughed and closed the gap.

"Kissing me to lift a curse," Janus said drily when they pulled away. "How romantic."

"Shush! You know it's because I like you!" Patton paused. "Did it work?"

"Yes, I felt it lift from my soul." Janus rolled his eyes and ran his hand down Patton's jaw. "No idea, Pat."

"Hmph." Patton pouted. Then his eyes lit up. "We should try again!"

They met in the middle. Patton shifted until he was half on Janus' lap. Janus wrapped a hand around his waist.

"Did it work this time?" Patton asked after they finally paused for breath.

"I think you know the answer."

"Well, third time's the charm!"

"Careful," Janus teased, pressing a kiss to Patton's nose, "or I'll start to think you like kissing me, Pat."

Patton giggled and pressed their foreheads together. "Guilty as charged."

And Janus, because he was the best boyfriend ever, let Patton kiss him a third time. Patton traced his hand down Janus' face, wanting to commit every bit of this moment to memory, blue fire around them and a tree sprawling beneath their feet and clouds shifting overhead.

"Seriously," Patton said breathlessly when they finally tired, "if that curse is still there—and I have a feeling it's not—I'll march in there and get it off. I'll…we'll figure this out together. Okay?"

"That's a plan," Janus agreed, tucking a bit of hair behind Patton's ear. "I'll add it to the list."

"What else is on the list?"

"Everything that comes next," Janus said. "I think you know. Virgil's sixteenth birthday, finishing the new hospital…"

"Harvest," Patton added. "Talking with Emile about sharing resources."

"He's doing a great job," Janus added. "From what I've heard. Finally getting revenge on Remus for that prank with the chicken."

"Not sure if we can top it, but I'm up for it." Patton bit his lip. "And…you and me."

Janus hummed. "Us."

"Us." Patton pressed a kiss to Janus' lips. "Not sure what to put under that category."

"How about…" Janus pretended to think. "Being boyfriends."

"Sounds good to me." Patton pushed a firefly along. "Being supportive? And kind. And there for each other during the tough stuff."

"Kissing," Janus added. "Holding hands."

"You're such a softie for cuddling," Patton teased, pretending he wasn't the exact same thing.

"Respecting boundaries," Janus added. "And…staying."

"Staying," Patton agreed, pressing his forehead to Janus', drinking in every detail of Janus' deep yellow eyes.

They sat there for a long time. The fire circled them, the tree grew and the leaves rustled and the clouds swirled above them.

It was Patton who felt the first drop of rain.

"Oh no," he said, grinning. "Time's up, I guess."

"There's still time," Janus tried to say, but just then the clouds opened up. Rain thrummed down around them, immediately soaking Patton to the bone, plastering Janus' hair to his skin.

"Fine," Janus admitted as Patton giggled. "Maybe we cut things a little close."

"Just maybe." Patton raised a hand and watched the raindrops bounce off it. "I dunno, I think this is pretty great. _Thunderous_ applause from me."

"There isn't even any thunder," Janus complained, but he was snickering so Patton counted it as a win.

"Honestly, it's not that bad!" Patton pulled off his glasses and stuck them in his pocket. "Now all the raindrops are out of my way! Except I can't see!"

Janus the blob laughed and took Patton's glasses, wiped them on his sleeve, and put them back on. "Can't have you blind for the walk home."

"Home?" Patton pouted. "But we were having so much fun!"

"It's pouring, in case you hadn't noticed." Janus took Patton's hand, both slippery from the rain, and pulled Patton to his feet. "We can keep talking when we're back at the house."

Patton turned back to his fires. They burned despite the rain, mending bark and binding branches. Already the tree looked far taller. "I don't want to put them out."

"Then don't." Janus shrugged. "I don't think they'll get up to much harm. They're _your_ magic."

Patton smiled at them. Cute little things. "Yeah."

"Great!" Janus tugged Patton down the grass. It was already growing squelchy from the rain, but Patton didn't care much. "Watch your step!"

"Why do I have to do that," Patton complained, stumbling onto the cobblestone, "when you do it for me?"

Janus laughed and tucked an arm around Patton's waist. "I can't do _all_ the work in this relationship."

It was raining even harder. The roads were slick with rainwater and the streetlights sputtered. Patton tilted his face up to the sky and let the water slip down his cheeks.

"Hurry," Janus teased. "You'll get wet."

"We're both already wet!" Patton laughed. "Just enjoy it, Jan!"

Janus sighed. "If you insist."

Patton did.

They stood there for a long time, catching raindrops in their open mouths, curled into each other. Janus' hand was secure around Patton's waist, and Patton had tucked his head into the gap between Janus' chin and shoulder, which was his place. Janus was soaking wet, water running down his skin, beautiful eyes glowing like the streetlights.

"We should go," Janus said weakly.

"We should," Patton agreed.

"We aren't.'

"We aren't." Patton looked up at Janus and felt he couldn't be filled with more love for his smart, charming, sarcastic, wonderful boyfriend. "You're staying, Jan. Right?"

"Always." Janus placed a feather-light kiss on Patton's forehead. "If you do, of course."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

And despite the rain and the cold, despite the Woods he still missed and the burned buildings at the edges of town, despite everything they'd done and everything that had been done to them and all the homes they'd had to construct from scratch, despite the fact that Janus was a dragon and Patton was a Faerie and they lived among humans because that's where they belonged, despite a future filled with uncertainty and promises and winters and springs—or perhaps _because_ of all that—Patton knew he was speaking the truth.

It was a rainy night, but it was okay.

Their hearts were on fire enough to keep them warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh! Thank you so much for reading!! This fic means a ton to me and I'm so happy you stuck it out to the end! (And if you read my author's notes...I'm sorry jkdhfghj). It's completely exhilarating to have this done and to put it out into the world. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> And have a great day!


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